The Vampire's Assistant
by Sada Green
Summary: I wasn't so naive as to believe working for a vampire would be easy. But I never thought it would alter the course of my entire life, that I would discover things I never knew about myself, or that it would ultimately unearth a long-buried family secret that would endanger the lives of everyone I loved. E/OC
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

I rapped softly on Mr. Northman's door with my fingernails. Down the hall, the noise of the staff cleaning and closing up the bar for the night was loud but I knew my boss would hear the knock. There was silence from the other side of the door for a few moments before his gruff voice gave the call to enter. I opened the door just in time to catch an eyeful of bare stripper ass as a faceless red head rushed to pull up her sorry excuse for a skirt on her way out of the office.

I didn't bother to conceal my annoyance, rolling my eyes as I stalked across the small room. I dropped my stack of papers on the desk in front of my boss, ignoring his smug, amused grin.

"Sign these." He arched a brow at me and I sighed. "Please."

His sharp eyes scanned through the documents in seconds and he signed his name to them even faster.

"So what are your plans for the rest of this fine evening, Abby?" he asked as I gathered the mess of paperwork into a neat stack. He was certainly in a good mood tonight, or maybe it was just the feeding and... whatever else he'd been doing in here before I knocked.

"Sleep," I answered succinctly.

"How droll."

"Well, some of us have important things to do in the morning and require actual rest to function."

He looked mildly offended, but not in a serious way. "I rest."

"Not quite the same thing, is it?" With my papers in hand I turned to leave, but his cool hand on my arm stopped me.

"Come on. Stick around for a little while."

I sighed. Mr. Northman had been like this ever since his progeny, Pam, had relocated to Baton Rouge two weeks ago to manage the newest Fangtasia location. Somehow, though I never would have thought it possible, my boss seemed lonely. You would think that in a thousand years he would have accumulated a larger friendship base, but after Pam's departure it became obvious how few people he called close friends. When he had free time, he seemed at a loss of what to do with himself and consequently, "entertain Eric Northman when he's bored" had been added to my job description. Luckily for me, the amount of his time that could be considered "free" was marginal.

"Just a little while," I conceded, crossing the room to plop my tired bones down on the leather couch. Whenever I sat there, I fought the mental images of all the disgusting things that must transpire on it, mostly because it was such a damn comfortable couch. On Sundays, when the bar was closed and I was the only one here, I sometimes entertained the idea of stealing a quick nap on it. I'd yet to give in to that urge though.

"So what do you want to do?" His response was a lecherous grin and I shook my head, more because I'd set myself up for that than at him. "Seriously."

My boss and I had a strictly professional relationship. Well, we'd developed a bit of a comfortable acquaintance as well over the past year, but we never strayed into sexual territory. I had made that a very clear condition of my employment when I signed my contract. This was too good of a job to fuck up like that. Some people may think that working as the personal assistant to a vampire wouldn't be that great of a job, but those people had never worked for Eric Northman.

In my year's employment with him, I had come to realize that Mr. Northman valued good employees and did not hesitate to compensate them in a manner that would encourage their loyalty. I was easily making four times what I would have made in the same position working for a human employer. And the benefits were unbelievable.

Sure, as a twenty three year old, moderately attractive female I had to cope with a good deal of sexual innuendo from him but it wasn't vulgar or persistent. And in all honesty, when it comes from a man who looks like Eric Northman, it's hard not to take it as a compliment. Overall, I felt that we had developed a mutual respect for each other so it was easy to brush aside the lascivious looks and not-so-subtle suggestions.

Mr. Northman leaned back in his desk chair and tented his fingers in front of his chest thoughtfully. "Has Ginger left?"

I nodded. Pranking Ginger was one of our many boredom killers. She was the most gullible of all the waitstaff and had the most entertaining reactions to things like finding me "dead" in the dry storage room.

An idea occurred to me. "Want to go for a ride?"

He arched his brow curiously. "Where to?"

I shrugged. "Doesn't matter. I just want to drive the 'Vette."

There was a tense moment of silence and I wondered if I'd overstepped my bounds. Mr. Northman's car was one of the shiniest, prettiest things I'd ever seen and he took great care to keep it that way. Although I had no prior enthusiasm for sports cars, from the moment I saw it I knew I wanted to be behind the wheel at least once. I waited anxiously for his response.

After some thought, he reached into his desk drawer. A moment later a set of keys were flying through the air towards me. I caught them mid-air and was proud of it, though the force behind them left my hand tingling.

I leapt to my feet, giddy with excitement, which seemed to amuse my boss. "I'll grab my purse. Meet you outside!" I called as I dashed down the hall to my janitor's-closet-turned-office.

Mr. Northman was leaning against the Corvette when I burst through the back door. I clicked the button on the remote to disarm and unlock the car and he opened his door and slid smoothly into the passenger seat. I was less graceful as I jumped into the driver's side.

As I adjusted the seat and all the mirrors, I noticed him eyeing me doubtfully.

"I'm a really good driver. I promise," I said with a smile I hoped was reassuring. I hit the button for the sunroof and started the engine as it slid open. The car roared to life and I couldn't help the "Wooo!" that escaped my lips at the feel of it purring beneath my fingertips. Mr. Northman chuckled.

We pulled out of the parking lot and he directed me to head for the interstate. I happily obliged and within minutes we were speeding down the nearly empty lanes. The cool night air pouring in through the sunroof was refreshing and I felt myself relax behind the wheel. Mr. Northman apparently had no desire to relax though.

"Push it faster," he said, "There's no one out here."

I glanced at the speedometer. I was already doing 75 which was about as fast as I was really comfortable driving my boss's extremely expensive car down the interstate. I looked at him hesitantly.

"Come on," he urged.

I gave in and sped up to 80, then 85. He motioned with a finger for me to keep going and didn't appear concerned for the well being of his vehicle, so I obeyed and soon we were pushing 100. It was a rush! I laughed gleefully as the scenery outside the car blurred and we zoomed down the straight stretch of road.

Suddenly the rearview mirror lit up with blue lights and a second later a siren wailed behind us.

"Son of a bitch," I muttered. My adrenaline high crashed as I slowed the corvette and guided it onto the wide shoulder. I nervously fumbled with my purse for my license as the cop got out of his cruiser and approached my window. Mr. Northman put a hand on mine to stop me and shook his head silently. Before I could ask his meaning, a burly police officer filled the window of the Corvette.

"License and registration, please ma'am."

All my instincts as a young southern woman kicked in and I smiled my prettiest, most innocent smile at the man. I shook my head so that my hair, or the parts of it that weren't pulled back in the clip, fell over my shoulders and I discreetly tugged at the hem of my shirt to expose a bit of cleavage.

"Gosh, officer, I'm awfully sorry. I know I was speeding, but this car..." I ran my fingers over the steering wheel, caressing it like a lover. "It's just so... powerful. I just got carried away." I looked up at him through my eyelashes. "I'm sure a man such as yourself can understand..."

To my credit, the cop eyed me for a long moment and took a big swallow. But then his eyes fell on my passenger and I'm sure he had registered the "BLDSCKR" vanity plate. His face turned hard.

"License and registration, please," he repeated, more firmly this time.

I frowned and reached for my purse just as Mr. Northman leaned across the seat.

"Officer Carter," he said, looking into the man's eyes with an odd intensity. The officer's posture seemed to relax and I looked between the two with curiosity. "You're not going to give her a ticket," Mr. Northman said.

"Ma'am, I'm not going to ticket you," Officer Carter said in a flat voice.

I gaped at my boss. I'd heard of this before, the hypnotic power vampires have. But I'd never seen it in action. It was pretty amazing and I was a little excited.

"You're going to let us go with a warning."

"I'm going to let you off with a warning this time," the cop said. I laughed with glee and clapped my hands.

I'll admit, at that point I got a little carried away. "Tell him, 'These aren't the droids you're looking for.'," I urged.

Mr. Northman looked at me like I was crazy but bless him, he said it.

"These aren't the droids we're looking for," repeated zombie-cop.

I lost it then and dissolved into tear-inducing laughter. The officer walked back to his car and drove away while I was still bent over the steering wheel, clutching my sides.

I came to rights when the driver's door opened and Mr. Northman shooed me into the passenger seat, saying, "My turn."

I scooted over obligingly and buckled my seat belt. "That was awesome," I said as he pulled a quick u-turn and headed us back in the direction of Shreveport.

He chuckled. "Apparently."

"I would have gotten out of it myself if you hadn't been in the car."

"I'm sure," he said with a hearty laugh.

Mr. Northman was much more comfortable with speeding than I was. I suspected the speed limit wasn't something he paid much attention to on a normal basis. As we hit a long stretch of straight road, he floored it and I gasped at the unexpected force. He knew how to handle his car though, which wasn't really much of a surprise, but it sure was a fun ride. He drifted effortlessly through the curves and we sailed back into Shreveport at about 95mph.

Riding at such speeds seemed to have the opposite effect on me as driving at them did. Mr. Northman shook me awake as we pulled into the Fangtasia parking lot.

I yawned and fished my keys from my purse. "Thanks for letting me drive the 'Vette," I said.

"It was very amusing," he responded with a sideways smile. I was too tired to decide if that was an insult or not.

"See you tomorrow," I called tiredly as I walked to my car.

The Corvette idled in the lot until I put my car in drive and pulled away.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

A year of employment with a vampire had not been the hellish experience everyone had warned me it would be. Granted, it was far from your average job, but I hadn't once even come close to being bitten, raped, or murdered over the past twelve months.

Admittedly, things had been a bit rough at first. Working out of a vampire bar had been a major culture shock. Being from New Orleans, I was no stranger to the undead. But I had never been to any place like Fangtasia before, so working in the environment definitely took some adjusting.

I wasn't naive to all the ways humanity had reacted to the Great Revelation. But I'd never seen the "Fuck yes!" reaction quite so up close before. It definitely made you look at the world differently. Mostly, it just made me sad. If hanging around a vampire bar every night of the week hoping for the chance to have someone _consume your bodily fluid_ was the most you had to look forward to, you had to have a pretty dismal existence.

Vampire temperaments were another adjustment. I quickly came to realize that despite what the AVL would have you believe, most vampires, my boss included, regarded humans as inferior and treated them as such. For the first three months or so, I never once heard the words "please" or "thank you." I was commanded, ordered, beckoned, and dismissed, usually without so much as simple eye contact. I'd wondered if I would be able to sustain working in such a hostile environment, where I was well compensated but treated like a second class citizen.

But then I had realized that it wasn't really all that different from working with the upper level partners of the law firm I'd worked at before. There was only one way I knew of to put a stop to that kind of treatment and it was as simple as garnering my employer's respect. While it was indeed a simple concept, the execution could be tricky. I made it a point to always be on time, if not early, and made it very clear that I was willing to work late if need be. I dove into my work with everything I had, accomplishing tasks faster than expected, better than expected, and doing things without having to be told. Anticipating my boss's needs seemed to make the biggest impact. Mr. Northman appreciated things like coming in to work to find a freshly warmed bottle of True Blood waiting for him on his desk.

I reorganized filing systems, devised new scheduling methods, established better vendor relations, and even worked up the courage to introduce some new ideas for Fangtasia's style. It had been a gradual process, but eventually I had earned myself a modicum of respect from not only Mr. Northman, but the hardest to impress vampire of them all, Pam. And with that respect, came a significantly more comfortable working environment.

Now, just a year later, I could say with all honesty that being the personal assistant to Eric Northman was quite possibly the best job I'd ever had.

This time last year I was in New Orleans, where I had lived all of my twenty two years. I was a casualty of the hard economic times and had been laid off my job as an administrative assistant at a local law firm after two years. In my months long search for another job, I'd had to give up my apartment, move back in with my parents, and had damn near lost my car. The opportunity to interview with the owner of a growing chain of vampire bars had come just in time.

At one of my family's monthly dinners, my uncle, Bobby, pulled me aside as I was clearing the dishes. He worked as Mr. Northman's day man and he said that his boss was currently expanding his business and was in need of an assistant. When he'd heard from my father about my "misfortunes", he had immediately thought of me for the job. At the time, I was only two more late payments away from having my car repossessed and was so desperate I didn't hesitate to take him up on the offer to set up an interview.

Surprisingly, my mother and father had expressed few qualms about the idea of their only daughter going to work for a vampire. They were more upset that if I got the job, it would mean my moving to Shreveport, which was about a five and a half hour drive from home. My brothers though, all older and all unbearably overprotective, were less than thrilled at the prospect. They all converged on me, intervention-style, in the family living room one night to talk me out of it. They were not successful, nor were any of the friends who echoed my brothers' admonitions.

My Mema's reaction, however, had given me pause. She'd kept very quiet about the whole thing until the day I was preparing to leave for Shreveport for my interview. She appeared in my doorway as I was packing my suitcase.

"It's not a good idea," she asserted without preamble. "You need to stay far away from their kind. From _all_ the kinds."

I didn't understand it at the time, being unaware of any "kinds" other than vampires and it was generally suspected in my family that Mema's mind was going. She was in her nineties and although none of her doctors had diagnosed her, it appeared from her sometimes erratic behavior that things were not working as they should. So I dismissed her comment as nonsense. But she persisted, shaking a bony finger at me.

"You stay out of their beds, girl!" Her raspy voice held a deadly seriousness. My Mema had never been so blunt with me. I dropped what was in my hands and stared at her, but she only turned and meandered back down the hall to her room.

Even keeping in mind her possible senility, the reality behind her words struck me. Most people would carry the assumption that to work for vampires, I must be one of their groupies too. I'd decided right then that would not be the case. I was raised better than that and, vampires or no, that was a sure way to end up jobless again.

I held firmly to that resolve. Not to say that it was easy, especially upon arriving at my interview to find that my prospective boss was a six and a half foot Adonis with an obvious appreciation for the female form. Luckily, being as devastatingly gorgeous as he was and in no short supply of admirers, he had no need to chase after someone who didn't want to be chased. As soon as I made clear my desire to remain strictly professional, he turned his attentions to the many women who lay themselves eagerly at his feet.

All in all, I was happy with my decision to work to for Eric Northman. I couldn't say it was my dream job, but with all the money I was able to save after my meager living expenses and a little spending money, in a few years time I would probably be able to put myself through college. Or maybe I'd travel, or buy a house. There were a lot of possibilities ahead of me. My present was content and my future was bright.

If I had only known.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Monday night was my night off. I usually spent it doing exciting things like laundry and catching up on episodes of my favorite TV shows. At first, I had tried to use my Mondays as regular human days, getting up in the morning and going to bed at night so I could get in a few extra hours of sun than usual. But I realized very quickly that operating on an opposite schedule the other six nights of the week made that impossible. So that's why one Monday night, when there was an unexpected knock at my door a little after three, I was wide awake to answer it.

I was on the couch, wrapped up in a blanket with a bowl of popcorn, watching reruns of "The Office". The loud, sudden sound gave me a jolt. I couldn't imagine who it could be at this hour, or that it could be anything good. I hesitantly crept across the hardwood floor to the door and peeked through the peephole. My boss's broad frame filled the view.

I opened the door, the shock evident on my face, I'm sure. "Mr. Northman?"

"Good evening, Abby," he said smoothly. "May I come in?"

His manner indicated he'd just dropped by for a casual social call, but I'd grown accustomed to the more subtle nuances of his body language. He was stiff. Well, stiffer than he usually was. I also found it highly unlikely, no matter how bored or lonely he might have gotten, that he would choose to drop by my humble little apartment on a whim.

I studied him carefully for a moment before stepping aside and issuing the necessary invitation. He looked relieved once he stepped over the threshold and I closed the door behind him.

"To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest. The suspicion dripped from my voice.

He gave me the look he always does when my attitude is not appreciated and instead of answering, looked around my tiny living room.

"I pay you better than this," he stated bluntly.

I bristled. "I happen to like my apartment; it suits my needs. And how I spend my money is my business."

He shrugged out of his leather jacket and tossed it over the back of the couch before taking a seat, crossing one long leg over the other. I sighed and resumed my position on the other end of the couch.

"What are you watching?" Mr. Northman asked, nodding towards the paused TV.

"I'm watching my boss being super evasive about why he suddenly decided to stop by my house at three o'clock in the morning."

He looked at me sharply. "Aren't all southerners supposed to be famous for their hospitality?"

"Not at three o'clock in the morning when there are obviously some ulterior motives going on."

"Maybe I came here to ravish you."

I snorted. "Because all the fangbangers of Shreveport suddenly fell ill?"

He turned his body toward me and leaned in closer, his face suddenly very intense. "Because I've wanted you since you walked into my office a year ago and I'm tired of waiting."

I stared at him, blinked, and said, "Seriously, why are you here?"

He sighed and leaned back against the couch, spreading his arm across the back. "I find myself in need of asylum."

"Why? What's going on?"

Mr. Northman shrugged nonchalantly. "Politics. I just need to keep a low profile until it blows over."

"And you want to do that here?"

"Yes."

I considered it. Obviously, there would be risk involved. My boss was trying too hard to look casual for there not to be. But I knew enough about vampires to know I would never get the details out of him. I knew that Mr. Northman held a position of importance within the vampire community, but I didn't know what that meant exactly. At first I'd thought that it was his age that commanded the respect of the vampires that came to Fangtasia, but I quickly came to suspect it was something more. I was curious, but smart enough to understand it was probably better that I didn't know.

"OK, worst case scenario, how dangerous could this potentially be for me?"

He looked at me purposefully. "Dangerous. But I would not let anything happen to you."

Ridiculously, his words made me feel all warm inside. I reasoned that it was my female instincts, accustomed to having four older brothers around, ready and eager to defend me at the drop of a hat. And maybe it was a bit of those damned eyes of his when he said it too.

"I'm going to need hazard pay," I said staunchly.

He laughed. "That can be negotiated."

We determined that Mr. Northman would have to spend his days in my bedroom as it was the only room in the apartment that could be made light-tight. There were no windows in the room so a little duct tape around the door edges would make it sufficiently vampire safe. I wasn't exactly thrilled about this though. All my clothes, my toiletries, my books, everything I considered personal and private was in that room. But there wasn't really anything I could do about it.

After an hour or so of working out all the particulars, I was beat. Thankfully, Mr. Northman realized this without having to be told and after I found the roll of duct tape for him, he wandered off to the bedroom and left me to my rest. I threw a sheet over the couch cushions and snuggled under my blanket, trying not to think of my boss in the other room fondling my underwear and reading my diary.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

It was a couple hours before sunset, and I was just getting out of the shower. For some reason I had woken up a bit later today than usual. It might have had something to do with the all night Call of Duty session Mr. Northman and I had indulged in last night. I wiped the foggy mirror with my hand and frowned at the image reflected back at me. I looked tired. Dark circles had nested themselves under my eyes and my skin seemed paler than usual.

I dried off and pulled on the jeans and t-shirt I'd laid out for myself the night before. I towel dried my hair and dabbed a little concealer on the offensive circles. It dawned on me that Mr. Northman had drank his last True Blood the night before and I had a few groceries to pick up as well. A trip to the store was in order.

I pulled on some flip flops and grabbed my purse on the way out the door. The sky was just beginning to take on its evening feel, the sun sinking closer to the horizon. The air was warm, but not muggy, so I rode with my windows down and drove the long way to Walmart, just to enjoy the breeze.

While I walked the aisles at Walmart, picking up a few things for myself and the True Blood for Mr. Northman, it grew dark outside. It was strange to think that he would be there, awake, when I got home. I wasn't used to anyone being at my apartment without me, much less my vampire boss. So far my little home had been "occupied" for three nights but each night I had been there when he rose for the evening, not having a reason to go into the bar as he had left word that he had "gone out of town on business" and taken me with him. I wondered if maybe I should have left a note.

As I loaded the bags into the trunk of my car, I decided it might be a good idea just to drive by the bar to get a look at things. Ginger had been left in charge and I had an awful feeling that whenever this vampire mess had blown over, I was going to return to find everything in chaos and disarray.

In retrospect, I don't know what I expected to be able to see from the outside, but it was certainly not what I found. Although it was still too early for the bar to be filled with patrons, I didn't expect to find it nearly deserted. There should have been at least three of the service staff there setting up for the night. Thursdays were always a wild card, Fangtasia could be slammed packed or nearly dead, but either way the staff knew to be prepared. And yet there was only one car in the parking lot. I couldn't see it very well, parked as it was toward the rear in the employee parking, but it looked like Ginger's.

I pulled into the lot and around to the back. As my wheels slowed next to it, I saw that it was not, in fact, Ginger's car. The black sedan was unfamiliar and had Arkansas license plates. My heart thumped and in the very instant I stepped on the gas, a figure appeared in front of the vehicle, smashing its fist hard into the hood. A breath later, my window shattered and the world went black.

Well it had taken a year, but I had finally found my way into the sort of perilous situation everyone had warned me about when I had first taken this job. I really had no one to blame but myself, though. Well, myself and the strange vampire sitting just a few feet away from me.

I had returned to consciousness to find myself in Mr. Northman's office chair, my hands and feet bound behind it with what felt like coarse rope. Something warm and sticky that was probably my own blood coated the left side of my face. The room itself was an absolute mess, more so than it usually was. Someone had obviously been rifling through the desk and the files. Foolishly, the thought occurred to me that it was going to be such a pain to clean up and reorganize it all.

Across the small room, a vampire lounged casually on the leather sofa. At first glance, he appeared deceptively harmless. His posture was relaxed and he wore an easy countenance. He was handsome, even, with a sharp, defined nose, full lips, and sparkling green eyes. Light blonde hair curled almost to the shoulders of his dark suit. He winked at me as I took him in.

"Welcome back... Abigail, is it?" He spoke with a slight British accent. I eyed him warily and kept my mouth shut. A long, quiet moment passed while we stared at each other.

"Well, since we're dispensing with the pleasantries, I'll just get to the point then," he said, abruptly rising to his feet in one fluid motion. "Your boss, where is he?"

"I don't know." The words passed my lips almost before I could think them.

The vampire t'sked. "Don't make me force it out of you."

"I really don't know. The last I was told was that he was going out of town on business."

He circled my chair ominously. "And you don't know where?" he asked skeptically.

I met his eyes. "I work for a vampire, sir. I know when to mind my own business. If Mr. Northman had wanted me to know, he would have volunteered the information."

The vampire stopped directly in front of me and leaned down so that his face was inches from my own. He held an intense, purposeful look in his eyes as he said, "You know where Northman is and you're going to tell me."

It reminded me of that night, not long ago, when Mr. Northman had used his influence to get me out of what would surely have been a bitch of a speeding ticket. I wasn't quite sure how that worked or what sort of power it was he'd used, but if this vampire was trying to pull the same trick, he sucked at it.

"I don't know," I repeated, slower and more forcefully.

With a hiss, the vampire stepped back quickly and his fangs popped out with a snap. Real fear and panic shot through me in an icy wave.

"What are you?" he demanded.

I was speechless. What had happened in the course of the last thirty seconds to bring this sudden turn? I could only shake my head, as tears sprang to my eyes. It was dawning on me that I probably wasn't going to leave this room.

An instant later there was a loud smack. I didn't even register the sting on my face until a second later when I found myself on the floor, still attached to the chair.

"I could break you in half," the vampire hissed.

Warm, coppery blood filled my mouth and I spit it out onto the floor just as a hand buried itself in my hair and jerked me back upright. The chair rolled backward until it banged against Mr. Northman's desk.

"Is it worth it?" the vampire asked, straddling the chair and my lap. "Does he pay you so much?" He leaned close, inches from my ear and whispered, "Does he fuck you so well?"

I barely registered the words before his fangs were in my neck. I screamed. It was excruciating, worse than either of the two blows I'd received that evening. He pulled away after what felt like an eternity and I realized that he had torn my shirt clear down the middle. I hadn't even noticed.

"You taste human," he said, wiping my blood from his lips.

I could feel the blood still pouring from the bite, dripping down my chest. Was this it? Was this the end? _Was_ it worth it? There was really no time to meditate on these thoughts. The vampire towered over me, regarding me with a wild hunger in his eyes. He brushed a few loose strands of hair from my face and caressed my cheek.

"I don't have any information for you," I pleaded. He shushed me with a finger on my lips.

"So you say. Perhaps I'll just leave a message for Northman."

I didn't have to ask what that message would be.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

I couldn't tell you what time it was. Consciousness had been wonderfully fleeting for the past few hours. I imagined it had to be close to sunrise, but then, I'd been thinking that for a while now and yet the strange vampire was still awake, showing no effects of the sun's pull.

He'd been having a grand time, laughing gleefully during my slow torture. At first I was thankful that he seemed to relish taking his time. It was my only source of hope that I may make it out of this with my life. But after the endless hours of pain, I felt I was ready to go.

Through the hours, I had mentally catalogued my biggest mistakes and regrets, the biggest of course being pulling into the parking lot tonight like a damn fool. My short life had played out through my mind and I had prayed for the first time in years, asking forgiveness for my many transgressions. I had made my peace. I was ready. If he'd only get it over with.

The little office seemed drenched with my blood. My body was weak from the loss of it and that helped me slip in and out of consciousness, which was a blessed relief. I got the sense that the vampire left me alone when I passed out and waited patiently for me to wake up to resume my torment.

My clothes were long gone, shredded into tatters and tossed around the room. Only my panties remained and it seemed like he was holding off on those for a final treat. Although I refused to look, I knew my body was literally covered in bruises, bites, and gashes. Mr. Northman's chair was saturated with my blood and my once white cotton panties were red with it.

There was a noise and I sensed the vampire behind me. He knew I was awake though I kept my eyes tightly shut. His smooth hand wound round my neck and another slid its way down to my breast. I wished for death. All of the kissing and caressing he'd intermingled with the biting and slashing left me no delusion where it was all headed. I didn't want to endure that. Surely I was too weak by now though, I would die before he got around to it. Hopefully.

"You've been such an entertaining hostess," he purred in my ear, "I really appreciate all your hospitality."

His hands snaked down my chest then, and I sent up one last silent plea for death. Fingers danced along the waistband of my underwear. I wondered if I could force myself to pass out. Maybe if I held my breath...

There was a soft, sudden thud and the hands were abruptly gone. I opened my eyes and almost cried out in relief as I took in the large figure in the doorway. Mr. Northman's expression was the very essence of rage as he perused the scene before him. He growled, a feral, primitive sound like I'd never heard from him before, and bared his fangs at the vampire behind me.

The next minutes were chaos, a flurry of motion too quick for my tired human eyes to follow. I gave up the effort, and slumped back against the chair, my ears flooded with the sounds of snarling, snapping, and tearing. And then there was silence; as quickly as it had begun it was over and a pair of cool hands rested on my shoulders. I jumped at the contact and a deep, familiar voice said, "It's all right. You're safe."

With an effortless tug Mr. Northman freed my feet, then my hands. I was too weak to support myself though and pitched forward and would have hit the floor if he had not caught me. The rush of relief I had felt at his appearance dissipated and I realized that he was probably too late. I had lost so much blood; my head was swimming and my vision was blurry. Though I could feel his arms around me, Mr. Northman seemed very far away.

"Abby, I need you to stay awake," he said sternly, but it was as if he was speaking over a bad connection. A hand gently slapped at my cheek but my cheek didn't feel like my own any more.

I vaguely registered a sound, like a crunch and then cool liquid flowed over my lips. I coughed and sputtered, but Mr. Northman's voice, clear and strong now, demanded, "Drink!" and I obeyed.

The liquid, at first cool, was warm as it slid down my throat. It didn't have a pleasant taste, but it wasn't awful either. It was rich and thick and... old. I forgot myself as I drank, could only think of the strange fluid. I didn't notice my wounds, my nakedness. The last hours' torment were like a dream. And then too soon my drink was gone.

I opened my eyes and realized I possessed perfect clarity. The reality struck me that I was nearly naked on the floor of my boss's office, cradled in his arms. The mess was still all around us, blood coating almost every surface. But I no longer felt any pain. I risked a glance at myself and though I was bloody, there wasn't a single mark on my body.

I gasped, a new kind of panic coming over me, but Mr. Northman quickly sat us up and grasped my face in his large hands. He met my gaze and held it sternly.

"You are fine. Everything is OK." He shrugged out of his coat and wrapped it around me. I huddled in the leather and turned my head to scan the room. Mr. Northman's hand stopped me short of looking past his desk. He shook his head silently.

"How?" I asked and was surprised at the strength in my voice.

"We can talk later. We have to leave now."

He helped me to my feet and ushered me from the room, locking the door behind us. Outside, my car still sat in the employee lot. The driver's window was completely shattered and there was a large dent in the hood, but Mr. Northman helped me into the passenger seat and started the ignition with the keys that still dangled there.

"Thank you," I said as we drove towards the apartment.

He only glanced at me, his face unreadable. But I noticed the tightness in his jaw. He didn't respond and I was too exhausted to press him. I fell asleep before we reached my neighborhood.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

I slept clear through the day. It was a deep, restful sleep; I didn't even dream. When I woke, I found myself on my own bed, on top of the covers, still wrapped in Mr. Northman's leather coat. The room was empty but I heard the shower running in the bathroom. It was already past sunset.

My mouth was like the Sahara, so I headed for the kitchen. My groceries sat innocently on the counter. I stared at them for a long moment. Had it really only been yesterday I had purchased them? It seemed longer. Everything felt so different now. I felt different.

"You're up."

I shrieked and jumped at the voice. Mr. Northman stood at the kitchen threshold, pulling a black t-shirt over his head. I couldn't avoid taking in an eyeful. But what struck me then was a wave of lust more powerful than I'd ever experienced. It was not the first time I had admired my boss's undeniably good looks, but I had always taken great care not to get too carried away. This feeling was so powerful it had me nearly swaying on my feet. I was suddenly very aware that I was in nothing but panties and a leather coat and I pulled the jacket tighter around myself, though nothing was showing.

"My apologies," he said, with a grin that did not seem at all apologetic, "I didn't mean to startle you."

I turned away quickly and grabbed a Coke from the fridge. "I guess I'm a little jumpy," I answered dismissively as I popped the cap.

The Coke was heaven to my parched mouth. I couldn't remember ever enjoying one quite so much. The flavors were so rich and pronounced; the carbonation danced in my mouth. I downed half the can at once. Mr. Northman was still at the threshold, watching me curiously. I felt a blush on my cheeks as I slipped past him towards the bedroom.

"I'm just going to hop in the shower," I called out and didn't wait for a reply.

My experiences the night before had really done a number on me. I couldn't seem to shake this strange feeling. I threw my underwear in the trash can and carefully hung Mr. Northman's coat on the back of the door. I'd have to have it dry cleaned. It was covered in blood.

The shower was soothing. But I felt as if every inch of my skin was alive in and of itself. I could feel each drop of hot water individually, like an intense ecstasy trip. Maybe being so close to death had awakened me more than I was before. I banished all those complicated thoughts from my mind and languished in the spray, taking my time washing every bit of dried blood from my skin. I only turned off the water when it grew too cold.

Mr. Northman was sitting on the couch when I emerged from the bedroom. He looked up at me seriously and I knew we had to address the previous night's events. I didn't find it an appealing prospect at the moment though.

He appeared to sense my hesitation and patted the seat on the couch opposite him. I sat, pulling my legs under me. I knew what needed to be said so I bit the bullet and came out with it.

"I'm so sorry."

Mr. Northman looked surprised, which wasn't an expression I was used to seeing on him. "For what?"

It was my turn to be surprised. I'd thought he would be angry with me. "I was stupid. I didn't think. I shouldn't have even been there and I caused you so much trouble."

His wide blue eyes gaped at me. "You have nothing to be sorry for. It was foolish, yes, but you were ignorant to the risks. It is _my_ fault and _I_ am sorry."

I reflected on his words for a minute, but I found that I staunchly disagreed. There was no point in arguing though and there were other issues at hand. "How is it that all my wounds have healed?"

He looked at me seriously. "I owed it to you."

"Owed it to me?"

"If you had given him the information he was no doubt looking for, neither one of us would be sitting here now. Obviously, you maintained your loyalty even at your own expense. I thank you."

"Don't thank me too much," I said, "I'm smart enough to realize that if I had told him what he wanted to know, I would have been dead very soon thereafter."

Mr. Northman nodded. "Probably. But I thank you, none the less."

"But how did you do it? How am I completely healed?" I pulled the sleeve of my shirt up and showed him my elbow. "In third grade I fell on the playground and split my elbow from here to here. Even that scar is gone."

He turned to face me better and looked at me evenly. "What I am going to tell you is privileged information. I need not remind you of the confidentiality clause in your contract." I shook my head earnestly. "My blood has healing properties. You were very close to death when I found you, so I had to give you quite a lot."

I sat back in my seat. It was rather heavy news. The need for secrecy was obvious. "Was there much risk in what you did?" I asked.

"No, but it is rarely done. As I said though, I owed you."

"Thank you," I said quietly. He smiled, but looked tired and I realized he seemed a bit paler than usual. "You gave me too much," I deduced.

Mr. Northman brushed aside my comment with a wave of his hand. "It's nothing that can't be fixed."

"I'll heat a True Blood for you." Before I could get up, his hand pushed me back down.

"It won't do. I will go out. Don't worry yourself. I have more to tell you." The last sentence was in his, "You're not going to like hearing this," tone so I sat back and tried to brace myself. "There are some side effects."

"Side effects."

"Your senses are sharper and you are stronger. But that is all temporary."

I breathed a sigh of relief. That didn't sound too bad. In fact, it sounded pretty cool. As I eyed the kitchen, contemplating testing just how much stronger I was on some metal utensils, Mr. Northman continued.

"On my end, I will be able to sense you."

That sounded less cool. I frowned. "Sense me?"

"I'll know where you are, when you're near. I will be more sensitive to your emotions."

Decidedly less cool. I glared at him. "Is that temporary, too?" My voice was acidic.

He looked away. "It was this or your life. Should I not have done it?"

Well, from that perspective I supposed he had a point. I didn't reply though. Instead I studied him. The skin on his face was nearing translucency. I didn't think I'd ever seen someone so pale. And though he was hiding it well, I could tell he was not his usual self.

"I'd imagine it's not a great idea to go out right now," I said. "Here." I held my wrist out to him. Mr. Northman eyed it warily. "This is a one time only offer."

There was real hunger in his eyes, but he still seemed hesitant. He glanced from my arm to my face a couple times, before carefully taking my arm in his hands. He tugged on it gently until I was closer to him on the couch. I knelt on the cushion and braced myself as he lowered his mouth towards my skin. As I tensed, he stopped.

He looked up at me. "Relax," he said, his voice soothing. His fingers worked at my arm, gently massaging the muscles. I tried to do as he said, but I knew from recent experience how painful vampire bites were. A shiver ran up my spine at the thought. Mr. Northman's other hand curled up around my neck then, and rubbed softly. "Close your eyes."

I did and tilted my head back as well. One thing was for sure; if the vampire night club business ever went under, he could definitely find work as a masseur. The tension in my muscles slowly eased and I barely registered the soft click of his fangs. I felt him lean in to my arm and as his fingers stilled, his lips lightly brushed my skin.

Electricity flew from my arm to other regions of my body and when a second later his fangs broke the skin, something like the wave of lust from earlier took me over. I made an embarrassingly intimate sound, but it didn't seem to bother him one bit. He uttered a low growl and sucked voraciously at the wound he'd made. It was as unbearable as the bites I'd received the night before, but in a completely different way.

It was all over in just a few minutes though. Mr. Northman lapped at the wound, cleaning it neatly without spilling a drop. The twin puncture marks faded until not a sign of them was left. I decided I was very glad of that.

"Thank you," Mr. Northman said, his voice warm and thick. His normal pallor had returned and his cheeks were even just slightly pink.

I could feel that my own were in a similar state. We had crossed a line, I felt, that I'd been very careful not to cross for the past year. Something awkward hung in the air between us and my response to awkwardness is almost always giddy, nervous laughter. So that's what I did.

"Well _that_ was different," I said as I bounced off the couch and headed for the kitchen. In all honesty, I didn't have any reason in particular to be in there. I just needed to put some space between myself and my boss. I could feel his eyes following me as I walked.

I flung open the refrigerator and leaned in to peruse my small supply. The cool air felt wonderful on my flushed skin. I grabbed a yogurt and took my time walking back to the living room. Mr. Northman hadn't moved it seemed and I sat down at the far end of the couch, as close to the arm as I could manage comfortably. He chuckled and I realized he could sense my embarrassment and discomfort. Thankfully, he didn't comment on it.

"I spoke with Pam earlier. She's driving up from Baton Rouge tonight."

I took a bite of yogurt and nodded. "Will she be staying?"

"Yes, for at least a few days. But we will not be inconveniencing you any more." His expression was hard and I sensed he had serious matters on his mind. I supposed that last night's happenings had meant a change in whatever situation he'd found himself in. I'd never wanted to know very much about the vampire side of Mr. Northman's dealings, but I was intensely curious then.

He glanced at me. "There is always a risk to humans who involve themselves with my kind. You knew that risk, but I'm very sorry that you had to experience it first hand. It is best you know nothing about these things though. It should help prevent something like this from happening again in the future."

"I wasn't going to ask."

"I know." There was a small smile on his lips. "Take the next few days off. You deserve it. Now, I have some calls to make." He stood resolutely and made for the bedroom, but paused at the door and looked back at me. "You would make an excellent vampire one day."

Then he was behind the closed door and I was left alone with that unnerving thought to contemplate.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

I didn't fully understand why, but a visit from a Ms. Sophie Anne LeClerq was apparently a very big deal. Mr. Northman had informed me a week ago that this vampire would be stopping in to the bar for a meeting and I was to help Pam make sure everything was perfect before her arrival. The simple fact that Pam had taken a week away from her duties in Baton Rouge to help prepare spoke volumes about the mysterious Ms. LeClerq.

The week had been absolutely hellish. Pam was like a slave driver and I tried very hard not to let my resentment of this show. I had grown accustomed to running things myself around Fangtasia. Since whatever vampire business had gone down a few months ago, Mr. Northman had been preoccupied with other things and had left much of the running of the bar to me. Pam apparently had not been given that memo though, as I seemed to be barely a notch above Ginger in her eyes.

She had run me ragged but in the end, I could survey my work around the bar proudly. The place was spotless and looked better than it had since I began working there. In addition to the top to bottom scrubbing the place had gotten, all the draperies and linens had been dry cleaned, new waitress uniforms ordered, and the decor slightly updated. Fangtasia was on its way to being much more than a campy tourist draw.

Pam had hired a special guest DJ for the night and one of the booths was filled with beautiful blonde donors, clad in their sluttiest. The bar was gearing up for a huge party, it seemed. From what I had gathered from snippets of conversation I shouldn't have overheard, Ms. LeClerq was somehow a deciding factor in the potential Fangtasia, New Orleans location. What her role was exactly, I didn't know. I doubted seriously that she was on the city zoning board or anything like that, but apparently her decision would make or break this new venture.

A New Orleans Fangtasia would mean so much for the business, not only in revenue, but reputation as well. New Orleans, cliche though it was, was a mecca for the undead and all those who flocked to them. It was the big time.

Mr. Northman had honored me by sharing some of his plans for the new club, should it pass approval. He'd even consulted me on a few of the details, as one of the rare humans whose opinion he apparently valued. If it was indeed built, it would be one of the biggest, hottest clubs in the city, a far cry from the humble little bar in Shreveport.

So all the fuss was understandable, but I was certainly glad it was over with, at least for me. I'd been given leave to take the night off once I'd finished with my duties. I was a little disappointed I wouldn't get the chance to lay eyes on the important visitor, but a long hot bath and a few hours of Game of Thrones held an equal, if not greater appeal.

I mentally ran through my list of responsibilities for the evening as the customers began to filter in. I had double checked that the shelves behind the bar were dusted and all the bottles were lined up neatly, with their labels facing forward. The donors all had drinks and theirs cabs were already ordered for the end of the night. I had picked Mr. Northman's suit up from the dry cleaner's and hung it in his office. My obligations seemed to be fulfilled but for one last detail.

Ginger passed me with a tray a drinks and I asked, "Have you seen Pam?"

"In Mr. Northman's office," she called as she weaved her way through the tables.

I headed toward the back hall and stopped by my little office to grab my things. I wanted to waste no time getting out of there and off of my feet. I was still shrugging into my coat when I stopped at Mr. Northman's office door and tapped softly. Pam whipped it open a second later.

She was dressed impeccably, as always, in an expensive looking black dress and red pumps. "Speak of the devil."

I ignored her comment. "Here's the check for the DJ service." I held the envelope out to her. "He's probably expecting a tip too, so there's some cash in there as well."

"How efficient," she drawled.

"You're welcome."

She bristled at my attitude and looked about to retaliate with her own when Mr. Northman's voice interrupted from inside the office. "Thank you, Abby."

Pam scoffed and sailed past me down the hall. As I crossed the threshold into the office, Mr. Northman was straightening his suit jacket.

"I'm all finished for the night if there's nothing else you need."

"You've done more than enough this week."

The compliment was not unusual but it made me uncomfortable nonetheless. Ever since what I privately called "The Incident", which had occurred nearly four months ago in this very room, Mr. Northman had been uncommonly good to me. He never seemed to miss a chance to thank me or praise my work. It was strange and I didn't like it, but I couldn't very well tell him to stop.

The other employees had noticed it as well and they didn't like it either. It was like being the teacher's pet and I got the cold shoulder from my coworkers because of it. Mr. Northman was brash and intimidating to them. To me he was appreciative and respectful.

"I hope Pam hasn't been too rough," he said as he adjusted his collar.

"Pam? She's been sweet as cherry pie," I deadpanned. He chuckled. "But really, it was nothing I couldn't handle."

His eyes flashed and his lips curved into a mischievous grin. "You can handle quite a lot," he commented casually.

I ignored his tainted remark. There had been a lot of that kind of talk lately, too. Or perhaps I'd just become more sensitive to it, or to him. My body reacted quite of its own accord when he said things like that. The worst part was that he knew it too.

"Well, you have a big night ahead of you," I said quickly, "I'll let you get to it." I turned to leave but barely took a step before he was in front of me, blocking the path to the door.

"You've really been such a help, Abby. Thank you." His voice was so sincere, it threw me for a loop.

I averted my eyes from his intense gaze. There was a spot of lint on his shirt and unthinkingly I reached up and brushed it away. His cool hand caught mine and held it there against his chest. I froze, panic and excitement warring within me. Why did he insist on doing these things? Any woman with eyes would willingly lay herself at his feet but I had a damn good job on the line here.

His free hand reached up and toyed with a stray strand of my dark hair. My breath caught in my throat. Nothing so simple had ever felt so good. But it was highly inappropriate, not to mention a violation of my contract. Or was it? It was really so innocent when you thought about it. And yet it didn't feel innocent at all.

"Your will is so strong," he spoke softly. "But I could break it any time I choose."

I was grateful he'd said the words. They broke the spell he seemed to have me under and I pulled my hand away and stepped just out of his reach.

"You seriously overestimate yourself, then." His response was a devious smile and I scowled in return. "That was not a challenge."

"Wasn't it?"

"Good luck tonight," I said with finality. Mr. Northman merely nodded, a look a satisfaction on his face.

"Goodnight, Abby." He side stepped away from the door and watched me pass. Once in the hall, I hurried to the back door and out to my car as fast as I could.

* * *

Something stirred me awake. I opened my eyes to Mr. Northman's face about a foot from mine.

"Good morning," he said with a wide smile.

"What the fuck?" I looked around and realized I had fallen asleep on the couch. "What are you doing here?"

"I have good news." He perched on the edge of the sofa, leaving little room for my feet, and I noticed a bottle of True Blood and a small bottle of Grey Goose on the coffee table. I rubbed my eyes.

"Good news?"

Mr. Northman was beaming. "Fangtasia, New Orleans is a go."

I blinked. "Well that is good news. But did you really need to break into my house at whatever time in the morning it is to tell me this?"

He chuckled and opened the vodka. "It's four and I didn't have to break in; the door was unlocked. You might want to be more careful about that." He poured the vodka into a waiting shot glass and popped open the True Blood.

"This is very strange." I struggled into a sitting position and ran my fingers through my hair. "I think we need to have a discussion about boundaries."

Mr. Northman handed me the shot glass. "Celebrate with me."

"Isn't that what Pam is for?"

"Pam is doing her own celebrating." I didn't need to think too hard to figure out what that entailed. I accepted the glass tentatively. He lifted his bottle of True Blood and said, "To Fangtasia."

"To Fangtasia," I echoed and we gently clinked glasses. The vodka was strong and I coughed as I slammed the shot glass down on the coffee table. "Whew! It's been a long time since I took a shot."

Mr. Northman chuckled and settled back on the couch. He was practically glowing. This was obviously a great victory for him. I wondered why he'd decided to share it with me of all people. I got my answer when he reached out to me and brushed my hair behind my ear.

No. No, no, no! I leapt up from the couch and glared down at him.

"Seriously?" I demanded. "What is your deal?"

He was unstirred. "I always get what I want, Abby," he offered simply.

"How can you be so old and still be so deluded?" That earned me an arched brow, the harshest warning I usually got from him. "No one gets what they want all the time."

"Why are you so stubborn?" he asked. His calmness was annoying.

"Because this is my job! My livelihood! Do you know how long it took me to even get an interview after I was laid off? In case you hadn't noticed while you were busy rolling around in your money pit, Richie Rich, the economy is shit right now. I won't throw away everything I've worked for just because you want a new plaything."

Something I said had hit a nerve because he growled and jumped to his feet. "That's what you think?" He was a breath away from me and growing angry, so I took a big step back. He took one forward. "If I wanted a new plaything, I could find one easily enough. They are in no short supply."

"You said yourself you always get what you want. I'm the exception to that and you can't stand it."

He laughed. "If it was as simple as that I would have had you by now."

Icy fear shot through me and it shocked me. I had never been afraid of my boss before, even at his angriest I had never felt threatened by him. Now I found myself glancing at the door, judging the distance. I'd never make it.

He had sensed my fear though. He stepped back several paces and looked away. His body seemed to deflate.

"You are a rare breed of human," he said softly. "The last one I found like you, I kept forever."

I assumed he was referring to Pam but I couldn't be sure. I knew so little of their history and I didn't consider myself to be anything like her. Before I could respond, he was standing just outside the front door. His deep blue eyes captured mine and he said, "I would never hurt you, Abby," before disappearing into the dark.

I sat back down and poured myself another shot.

* * *

A.N. Sorry it's been soooooo long since I've updated! You've all probably forgotten about this story by now. Well the short and long of it is that I got married and wedding planning took precedence over writing. But things have calmed down now so on with the show! I hope everyone enjoys. Feedback is always appreciated. Thanks!


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

After the night of Ms. LeClerq's visit, work was excruciatingly awkward. I came in the next day, prepared to pretend as if nothing had happened like any normal, red-blooded American would do. I was apparently the only one with that plan, however.

Mr. Northman would hardly look at me. When I brought him his True Blood, he accepted it without even glancing up from his computer. If he needed something, he barked an order at me. Basic courtesy and manners were nonexistent. It was like starting work there all over again.

It hurt but what was most disheartening was that I knew Mr. Northman could tell just how much it hurt me. Since "The Incident" I'd become increasingly aware of just how sensitive to my emotions he really was. "Sensitive" was a gross understatement. He could read me like a book. I hadn't really minded before; if anything it seemed to make him even more courteous towards me. But now I couldn't help but feel that he was revelling in the sadness and anger he caused me.

I decided that if he wanted to be callous and cold to me, then I would do the same. I started avoiding him like the plague, which wasn't easy considering I was his personal assistant. I only ever approached him about business matters that I absolutely had to and I was sure to use detached, formal language when I spoke to him. When my shifts were over, I gathered my things and left the bar without a word.

The staff immediately took notice and started to gossip. I'd long assumed that they all thought I was sleeping with Mr. Northman and now I guessed they thought he'd tired of me. I didn't particularly care what they thought, but they sure were nicer to me. Getting the cold shoulder from my boss seemed to have endeared me to my co-workers.

As I was getting ready to leave one night, a couple of the dancers approached me and invited me to go out with them. It was the first time it had happened in the whole time I'd worked at Fangtasia. I thanked them and started to decline the offer, but thought better of it. Why shouldn't I go out and have a little fun for a change? I'd practically been a hermit for months now, diving so completely into my job that I hadn't bothered to make any friends in Shreveport. I took them up on their offer.

To my surprise, it wasn't just a couple of dancers I went out with. It was all the dancers and some of the waitstaff, too. We went to an after-hours bar and I resolved myself to having a good time, despite my dark mood of late. In my late teens I had been quite a party girl and it was easy to slip back into that mindset once I allowed myself to. I danced and drank and let my mind be blissfully free of worry and responsibility for the night.

It was a good time and I had thoroughly banished all thoughts of my uncomfortable work situation until I was sitting in a booth, taking shots with two of the dancers. The bolder of the two, Melanie, mischievously grinned at me and said, "So, Abby, I have to ask. What is the deal with you and Eric?"

I was feeling more than a little buzzed and the name didn't immediately register with me. I never called Mr. Northman by his first name. When the realization dawned on me, I frowned.

"There is no 'deal' with me and Mr. Northman," I said firmly and slung back another shot.

Melanie exchanged a look with Sarah, the dancer next to her. "Please," she scoffed, "there is obviously something going on between you. Or at least, there was." They giggled. I scowled.

One of the Fangtasia waiters, Chris, slid into the booth then with a handful of shooters. He looked between the girls and me and his friendly smile faded. "What're we talking about ladies?"

"Abby and Mr. Northman," Melanie answered with a cruel smile.

Chris studied my face for a moment and frowned. "Maybe Abby doesn't want to talk about that."

"Maybe there's nothing to talk about!" I snapped. "Is that so hard to believe?"

The girls stared at me with identical looks that plainly said it was hard to believe. "Everyone has a story with Eric," Sarah said.

"I don't," Chris chimed, slinging back a shot.

"Everyone with a vagina," Melanie corrected.

"Well this vagina doesn't." I slammed my empty shot glass on the table and slid out of the booth, stumbling a bit as I headed for the dance floor.

I used to love dancing. New Orleans has a thriving club scene and as a teenager I was an active part of it. After a few years, my parents made it clear to me that they would not be financially supporting that lifestyle so it was time to grow up and be responsible. That's what I did and I had rarely gone dancing since and not at all since I moved to Shreveport. I'd missed it.

I found a spot on the floor in the middle of the crowd so it was easier to forget I was dancing by myself. I was feeling the drinks. My head was swimming and I closed my eyes and lost myself in the sound. I didn't know how long I'd been dancing when I felt a pair of hands on my waist.

"Ignore them. They're just catty, jealous bitches," Chris said in my ear. He gripped my hips, pressed himself against me, and swayed his body with mine. That was another thing I hadn't experienced in a while.

He was so warm and such a smooth, easy dancer. I melted into him. We danced to several songs before I got dizzy and faltered. Chris steadied me with his large hand and looked hard at my face. "I think it may be time for you to call it a night," he concluded. "Can I drive you home?"

I nodded and leaned against him for balance. I wasn't used to drinking so heavily and was glad he was there so I didn't have to ask one of the "catty, jealous bitches" for a ride.

The bar wasn't far from my apartment so the drive was short. Chris and I chatted easily along the way. He was charming and very handsome. I studied him in the dim glow of the passing streetlights. He really was very good looking, with dark, almost black hair and deeply tanned skin that stretched over thick muscles.

At some point during the brief drive, my drunken mind decided it would be a good idea to sleep with him and once we arrived at my apartment, it wasn't hard to initiate. We'd both been drinking and were both attractive people and that's about all it takes on a night like that. I can't say it's something I was proud of, but in the moment I felt like I needed it. At the time, it was the perfect release. When it was over though, I realized it'd hardly been fulfilling. One night stands never are and there was no doubt that's exactly what this had been.

I did feel more relaxed though and only a little ashamed. Chris and I exchanged some mildly awkward chatter before he said goodnight. I locked the door behind him and fell onto my couch, willing the room to stop spinning. It hadn't been a terrible night, but I didn't think I'd be doing it again any time soon. It wasn't worth it and I knew I'd pay for it tomorrow.

I paid in spades. Though I slept soundly until my alarm went off, when I got up, I had the hangover from hell. I stumbled into the bathroom and vomited all the contents of my stomach. I lay on the cold tile in the fetal position for as long as I could before I had to leave for work. If I'd been smart last night, or maybe just not as drunk, I would have drank some water and taken an aspirin. But that ship had sailed now.

I did drink a bottle of water and ate a few crackers while I scrounged together an outfit though. I started to feel marginally better but still groggy and out of it. It took my walking outside to remember that my car was still at Fangtasia. My mood soured even more as I called a cab.

I was supremely late to work. Between my sluggish pace getting ready and waiting on the cab, I arrived a whopping forty-five minutes late. I had never been late to work at Fangtasia. The club was already open and getting busy for the night. I dropped my purse in my office and turned on my computer before heading out into the bar for a much needed water.

I regretted it instantly. The eyes of the dancers and the waitresses were on me as I tried unsuccessfully to slip discreetly behind the bar. I caught Melanie's amused stare and she winked at me. I ignored her.

"Here," Ginger said, pushing a saucer with a hot cup of black coffee into my hand, "You look like you need this."

Oh great. It was like that. I accepted the cup with what I hoped was a grateful smile, but really I just wanted to go find a dark hole to crawl into. As I slunk away back to my office, Chris whizzed past me, balancing a tray with one hand, and with the other giving me a swift pat on my ass. I ignored that too.

Mr. Northman, however, did not. No sooner had Chris passed me, than I felt a searing stare at my back, almost like I was actually being touched. I froze and looked to the head of the club, where this mysterious feeling seemed to have emanated from. Mr. Northman was there, perched on his annoyingly regal chair. There was no doubt the sensation had come from him. He exuded irritation and resentment.

I glanced anxiously around the club. No one else seemed to have noticed. Gripping my coffee cup like a life preserver, I fled to my office, where I hid for most of the night. A little after closing time, the sounds of raised male voices drew me out of my safe haven. I opened the door and peered down the hall, just in time to see Chris emerge from Mr. Northman's office. His shoulders were stiff and when he saw me, he glared.

"Thanks a lot," he spat and blew past me before I could say a word.

I heard the front door slam a moment later and it wasn't difficult to guess what had happened. It was my turn to be angry. Without thinking, I charged into my boss's office.

"What the fuck just happened?" I demanded, though I already had a pretty good idea.

Mr. Northman looked up at me passively from his desk. "It doesn't concern you."

I scoffed. "Yeah right. You just out of the blue had a shouting match with one of our best servers, who I happened to hang out with last night."

Vampires don't roll their eyes, but if they did, Mr. Northman would have rolled his as I said "hang out". His face clearly said he was totally aware of what I did last night. "Christopher wasn't upholding the standards of professionalism expected of Fangtasia employees," he explained simply.

"What standards would those be?"

"As a growing business, we have to take sexual harassment and inappropriate employee fraternization issues seriously. We have a zero tolerance policy."

"I can't believe you actually said that with a straight face. Everyone knows how you audition the dancers, you know. And furthermore, there is no sexual harassment policy in place here and to discipline an employee based on this nonexistent policy is treading on some really shaky ground. As the owner of a growing business you should keep that mind."

Mr. Northman returned his attention to his computer screen dismissively. "I didn't discipline him. I fired him."

"What?" I shouted, despite myself. "You fired one of your best employees why, exactly? Good servers don't just grow on trees. Chris is a damn good worker."

My outburst was answered with a cold stare. "Then your boyfriend should have no problem finding employment elsewhere," Mr. Northman answered in clipped tones.

I sank backwards onto the couch. "Is that seriously what this is about? I had a stupid one night stand and a man loses his job? Do you have any idea how insane that is?" He was silent, but stared at me with a look that plainly said he didn't care. I growled in frustration. "If anyone deserves to be fired here, it's me. I came in late, without calling. I'm hungover, look completely unprofessional, and I've sat in my office all night watching YouTube videos and doing no work whatsoever."

The cold gaze was unwavering. "What makes you think you weren't going to be fired?"

There was nothing I could say to that. It had been rather arrogant of me to assume Chris was the only one on the chopping block tonight. Deflated, I looked down at my shoes.

There was a long silence before Mr. Northman spoke. "As good an employee as you usually are, it would benefit me to fire you." His tone indicated he wasn't thinking out loud. It sounded like a lecture. "I haven't hidden the fact that I'm very attracted to you and I admire you greatly, Abby. You're intelligent, loyal, cunning, and of course beautiful. I've said it before, and I still believe you'd make an excellent vampire."

He rose from his chair and came around the desk to stand in front of me. "You may not understand it, but that is the highest compliment I could ever pay you." His eyes softened. "I know you enjoy my company. And I know for a fact you're attracted to me. I can feel it." He leaned down, his face inches from mine. "I can smell it."

I scooted to the far end of the couch, the leather squeaking beneath me as I slid. Mr. Northman took a seat at the other end. "If I were to fire you," he said, sounding reasonable, "your only reason for denying me would be null."

I glared at him then. What a cocky bastard. "What makes you think that's my only reason?"

"Isn't it?" There was an irksome assuredness in his voice.

"Well let's see, trying to blackmail me into sleeping with you doesn't exactly count in your favor."

He sighed. "I have no intention of firing you, Abby, or of using the threat of it to lure you into something against your will."

"Then what do you want from me?"

"I want you to trust me." His voice was gentle, earnest.

"Trust you?"

"Trust that your welfare is a high priority for me. Trust that I have never, and never will, see you as an object or treat you as such. Trust that your job will in no way be jeopardized if you allow yourself to get closer to me."

I mulled over his words. "That would be a lot easier if you hadn't acted like an irrational jackass and fired a perfectly good employee because of your own petty jealousy tonight."

His lips twitched in a small smile. "I'll send him a generous severance check."

It wasn't much but it was more than I'd expected. I had no delusion that Mr. Northman would admit his mistake and rehire Chris. The damage had been done and who knows what words had been exchanged between the two tonight. But it did make me feel a little better about the whole thing.

"Good," he said with finality, though I hadn't uttered a word. He stood and extended his hand toward me. "Let's get you something to eat. You look like shit."

I couldn't help but laugh and I accepted his offered hand, happy he'd broken the tension so easily. He helped me to my feet and led the way out of the office.

"Mr. Northman?" He looked down at me. "I'm sorry I didn't have it together tonight. It won't happen again."

He nodded. "Good." We took a few more steps before he paused and looked back at me. "And for fuck's sake call me Eric."


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

My third date with Eric was in New Orleans. It was early September and he'd decided, rather ambitiously, that the new Fangtasia would have its Grand Opening on Halloween night. So we, along with Pam, were in the city making preparations, the biggest of which was the purchase of the building itself.

That had been finalized the night before and Eric was obviously thrilled at the progress we'd made. I could almost see cartoon dollar signs floating around his head. As for me, I was just happy to be home. I'd missed the city terribly, more than I'd allowed myself to realize. Eric sensed this, of course, and for our third date he'd handed me the reigns for the first time, telling me to pick wherever I wanted to go in the city.

I'd chosen one of my favorite, tucked away little bistros and a visit to Cafe du Monde. He obliged me and afterwards we strolled through the French Quarter. I still couldn't decide what I found weirder, that I had been on three dates with a vampire, or that those three dates had been so normal. Eric, surprisingly, had been the consummate gentleman. The dates he'd planned for us were human-friendly, lovely evenings that ended with no more than a kiss on my hand or a light brush against my cheek. I couldn't remember ever being on a human date that ended so chastely. It was a new and not altogether unpleasant experience.

But I knew the game he was playing. I'd worked for Eric for nearly two years now and knew better than to mistake him for a gentleman. He might be on his best behavior now, but it was only to glean my trust. Which, when I thought about it, was actually a pretty decent thing to do. It was more than most human men had done for me and more than I'd ever have expected from Eric.

What was troubling about the whole thing was that I couldn't figure out why he'd gone so out of his way for me of all people. I couldn't understand what sort of appeal I, an average mortal woman, could hold for a vampire like him. I looked where our hands intertwined as we walked, his so pale and large and mine so small in comparison, the skin only a little darker than his. Even in his hand, as relaxed as it was at the moment, his power was evident. It was in his shoulders, too, and his neck, his long legs, the sinewy muscles of his arms. Even if you couldn't see him it was palpable. His presence was pure energy; strong, compelling, old energy.

He'd lived lifetimes. He'd witnessed more history than I'd ever been taught and he would be around long after I was just a tombstone over a plot of earth. I hadn't the slightest idea what could have possessed him to take such an interest in me. I'd never heard of a vampire as old as Eric caring a fig for any human beyond blood and sex.

His patience and kindness towards me was baffling. Sure, I'd like to think of myself as a good employee and a fairly good person overall. But what significance did that have to him? In my experience, he appreciated tall, gorgeous women with big boobs and loose morals. I would hardly call myself gorgeous, pretty perhaps, in a common way, my boobs certainly weren't big, and while I wasn't qualifying for sainthood, I liked to think I had some standards, that my mother raised me right.

I felt Eric's eyes on me and when I looked, I found him staring down at me with a furrowed brow. He'd sensed my consternation. I smiled at him and squeezed his hand but he wasn't fooled. He was too tapped into my emotions to be.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I lied sweetly and diverted. "I really enjoyed tonight."

Eric's face said that he still didn't believe me, but he didn't push. "So have I. I'm glad you've gotten over your stubborn streak."

My eyes narrowed. "Who says I have?"

He chuckled and pushed a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "Here we are." I stopped, surprised that we'd had a destination at all. I'd thought we were just walking, enjoying the night. But the recognition dawned on me as Eric turned a key in the lock of a familiar building.

The soon to be Fangtasia, New Orleans was a beautiful building, probably one of the older ones in the Quarter, but it had been kept up and obviously cherished over the years. It was two stories, with a majority of the second being a mezzanine that I suspected meant it had once been a theater of sorts. It had all the usual New Orleans charm, gaslight lanterns at the door, a gallery overlooking the street, and ornate carvings in all the alcoves and ceilings. Not only was this place twice the size of either of the other Fangtasia locations, but it had loads more character, too. I loved it. I'd fallen in love with its charm and its history the moment we'd stepped through the door and I was happy Eric had chosen it over the other properties we'd viewed.

He ushered me through the door and I waited for a moment in darkness before he found the switch. The lights flickered on, dimly revealing the bare dance hall. An old mahogany bar sat to the right of the room, that with a good polishing would serve its purpose once again. A low stage filled the back wall and a few worn out booths lined the sides. Overall, the place would require minimal improvements to get it up and running.

I walked to the center of the dance floor, my heels echoing off the hardwood. "It really is perfect," I said, surveying the space for the second time since we'd visited last night.

Eric smiled and made his way over to me. "I agree. There is much potential." His hands slipped around my waist and his chest met my back. My heart raced.

"You know, the Quarter vampire tour comes right past here already. Maybe we could work out a deal with them to be a break stop. Provide some drink vouchers with the tour..." My voice wavered as Eric spun me gently to face him.

He nodded. "It's not a bad idea."

However professional the talk, it did nothing to belie the sudden electric intensity in the room. The massive, empty hall shrunk around us. Eric's profoundly blue eyes met mine and I couldn't blink, couldn't breathe. His strong hands kneaded the small of back, inching me closer to his chest. I could hear my heart pounding in my ears, so there was no doubt he could hear it, too.

"Relax," he whispered. I was flush against his body now and I could feel every line of muscle in his chest. The proximity lit my flesh aflame. Impulsively, I placed a hand over his silent heart. A cool finger traced the line of my jaw and down the curve of my neck, leaving a blazing trail in its wake.

"Do you trust me, Abigail?" he asked.

I swallowed. "I'm trying." It was all I could offer him. I hoped it was enough.

He smiled, "Good," and his fangs descended with a soft click.

I stared at them, transfixed. They were dangerously sharp and gleaming white. Lethal. I should have been frightened by their appearance. But I wasn't at all. My response, which should have been to shrink away from him, instead was to kiss him. I registered his brief surprise, before he returned the kiss with his own fervor.

Even in heels I had to lift up on my toes to meet his lips with mine. But I only had to stretch for a moment before I was enveloped in his massive grasp, my feet completely off the ground. Something possessed me then, something devious and rash. I let my lip brush against a fang, slicing it open and spilling my blood into his mouth.

Eric growled. It was a dark, low sound and I could feel its heavy vibration in his chest. My back was against a wall a breath later. I gasped at the impact. Eric took the opportunity to seize my lip, sucking greedily at the open cut. It was impossibly arousing. The modesty and chastity of our first two dates dissolved in an instant. I arched into him, hooking my legs around his hips.

He pushed back against me, grinding his hardness against my core. I moaned at the contact. My lip had healed now; I couldn't even feel the spot where it had been. Eric eyed me, his fangs still peeking out below his upper lip. He was still hungry. I pushed my curls away from my neck and nodded. "Do it." It came out as a breath, but he heard.

His bite wasn't painful. It was a brief pressure and then intense energy, my energy, flowing into his, connecting us. It was much more intimate than the last time I'd allowed him to drink from me, and infinitely more erotic. I clung to him tightly, my hands gripping his strong shoulders.. He drank fiercely, not as gentle or neat as the last time. But as I started to feel weak, he pulled away, and licked each drop of spilled blood from my skin.

His face was glowing, his cheeks tinged pink. "You're delicious," he moaned, resting his forehead against mine. We stayed like that for a moment, eye to eye, tangled in each other. "It's nearing dawn," he said without breaking the contact, "May I give you something?" He didn't wait for my answer, but lifted his wrist to his mouth and tore it open with his teeth. I gasped, confused, and he held the wrist, his blood bubbling from the wound, to my lips.

"Please," he prodded gently.

I didn't really think about it, though I knew I should have. I was still reeling from his bite and was all too eager to comply with whatever he wanted from me. I let him press his wrist to my lips, and gingerly licked and sucked, not hating the taste of him. Eric watched my lips through heavy lids, seeming to enjoy my taking from him as much as he enjoyed taking from me.

His wrist healed quickly though and he drew back, carefully setting me down on my feet. "It pains me, but we need to go."

I didn't respond, couldn't respond. Even as he'd said the words, I knew- I could feel- his regret. It truly did pain him to step away, to put the distance between us. His roiling, heavy lust assaulted me too, feeding my own. But also, there was a thin, nagging sensation, a tickling at the base of my skull that was annoyingly urgent.

"Eric..." There was a tinge of rising panic in my voice.

"It's okay. I'll explain it all tomorrow." He extended his hand and I accepted blindly. But instead of leading me out the front door, he led the way upstairs, down the back hall of offices, to the small staircase that led to the roof. The faintest glow of the dawn's first rays was just visible on the distant horizon and before I could utter the question poised on my lips, Eric gathered me up in his arms and we floated up above the rooftops of the French Quarter.

I squeezed my eyes shut and buried my face in his neck as we went higher, picking up speed. "I might have a slight issue with heights," I muttered.

"This will be quick, I promise."

"I bet you say that to all the girls."

Eric chuckled and a moment later we landed smoothly on the rooftop of our hotel's parking garage. "You're going to eat those words."

We said goodnight at the door to his room. The dawn was pulling him under; he was growing sluggish. It was strange to not only see this, but feel it in my head as well. I kissed his cheek and slipped from his grasp. As I exited the elevator onto my floor and trudged wearily to my own room, I felt a change, like a switch had flipped and I was alone in my head again.

* * *

Reviews are ALWAYS appreciated, guys! I see all you lurkers. ;)


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

The next day, just before sunset, the switch flipped again and a low, steady hum buzzed in the back of my mind. It was quiet and not overpowering, but it was distinctly happy. I had just left my parents' house after taking the afternoon to enjoy a rare visit. They were happy I was doing well at my job but I made no mention, and they didn't ask, about how things were with my vampire boss. They pressed me to stay with them while I was in town, but I wasn't eager to pass up the luxurious accommodations Eric had provided in exchange for my childhood bedroom where I would be doing my own cooking, cleaning, and laundry. They understood and were even a bit impressed that I worked for a company that took such good care of me. I didn't explain that it probably wasn't so much the company as it was Eric doing the caring.

En route to the hotel, the happy hum turned sour and a few minutes later my cell rang. "Abby," Eric's voice was abrupt when I answered the phone. "I've got to go back to Shreveport tonight."

"Is something wrong?"

"Nothing you need to worry about. Pam is coming as well but I need you to stay here and take care of things."

I gulped. "Things" meant the business of opening a vampire nightclub. While I had lots of ideas for the bar, I certainly didn't feel confident enough to be handling the startup alone. "How long will you be gone?"

"I don't know yet. It's hard to tell." I could tell by more than just his tone that he was angry. But his voice softened as he said, "I'm sorry about this, Abby."

"No worries," I answered as confidently as I could. "I'll call if I run into any problems."

Eric was silent a moment. "I was looking forward to seeing you tonight."

I smiled. "I believe I had some words to eat?" He laughed and I could feel his warm, playful amusement. It made me happy to have lightened his mood, if only temporarily.

"In due time."

"It seems rather convenient that you have to leave town so suddenly," I teased. "Am I that intimidating?"

A growl reverberated through the phone, but it wasn't ferocious. "You're in for a rude awakening when I get back."

"I'm trembling."

Eric chuckled, but the next minute he was all business again. "I'm leaving some things in your room. Call if you have any questions. If you can't reach me, call Pam."

I frowned, worry seeding itself in my stomach. For once, I wished I did know a little more about the vampire community and Eric's role in it. "Be careful," I said concisely, uncomfortable with the new feeling.

"Always," and the call ended.

When I got to my room, there was a box of papers, binders, and files waiting for me on the desk. Its sheer size was daunting and as I flung my coat and purse on my bed, anxiety flooded my system. Seemingly in response, I felt a foreign wave of soothing calm wash over me. Although it was helpful, I wished I understood more about this strange connection between Eric and I, how it worked, and how long it would last.

Perusing all the paperwork made me feel a little better about the task ahead of me. Eric already had many things arranged, or at least in the process of being arranged. The budget was clearly laid out in a handy spreadsheet. He'd left the name of the contractor who'd be doing work on the building, and contact information for all the vendor reps. He'd already chosen a staffing agency to help bring in vampire-friendly employees and a graphic design firm to redo the logo and produce flyers and ads. Most of my work would be to make contact and set up contracts with these companies.

Over the next week, that's what I did. I threw myself into the job, keeping a pace that wouldn't allow me to dwell on the weight of the responsibility laid on my shoulders. It also allowed me to ignore Eric's silence. I hadn't heard from him since the night he left New Orleans and I could barely sense the quiet hum that was his presence in my mind. I couldn't decide whether I was grateful for that or not. While it was easy not to worry when I was occupied with meetings and planning details, those thoughts weren't so easy to ignore when I laid my head on my pillow at night.

It also didn't help that the erotic dreams I'd been having of my boss for months now intensified tenfold. When I did get to sleep, I would wake up drenched in sweat and writhing in my sheets. My libido had never been so active. I grew fed up with fighting the nagging thoughts and restless nights. I decided to use my free time after work to reconnect with some of my old friends in the city and hopefully tire myself to the point of exhaustion before I fell into bed.

I discovered that one of my closest high school friends had recently opened a bar with his partner in the Quarter, only a few blocks from the soon-to-be Fangtasia. I paid him a visit and was welcomed with open arms, so I developed the habit of stopping by the bar for a drink each night after work. It was on one such night, about two weeks after Eric's sudden departure, that his absence was explained.

It was early in the evening so the bar was nearly empty. I was enjoying a glass of white wine and chatting with Josh, the owner, as he cleaned and stocked up for the night. The newscaster's voice from the flat screen over the bar drew me out of my conversation.

"An update tonight on the three Shreveport teenagers, missing now for almost two weeks. One girl has resurfaced tonight, but with her appearance come more questions than answers. Here's Maureen McCalls with the story."

I motioned for Josh to turn up the TV, just as Maureen McCalls appeared on the screen, standing in front of the Shreveport Fangtasia. A crowd was gathered outside, carrying signs expounding all the usual anti-vampire rhetoric, and emblazoned with the emblem of the Fellowship of the Sun.

"Two weeks ago, teenagers Diana Foster, Marie Campbell, and Amy Twining disappeared. The three friends were last seen outside this vampire nightclub, where they were protesting on behalf of their church, the controversial Fellowship of the Sun."

My heart sank. I stared, unblinking, at the screen. How had I not known? Sure, I wasn't one to watch the news, but I certainly should have heard about this before now.

"Police had no leads on the whereabouts of the girls, until last night, when Diana Foster reappeared... as a vampire." They cut to a taped interview with Diana Foster's weeping parents.

"We prayed and prayed for God to send her back to us," Mrs. Foster said, "But we didn't think it would be like this!"

"We want some answers," Mr. Foster spoke up as his wife broke down. "We know we're being lied to."

Maureen McCalls appeared again on screen. "At a press conference earlier this evening, Miss Foster claimed that she and the other girls went to the popular vampire bar, Fangtasia, with the specific intent to be turned into vampires. Her request was granted and though she claims not to know the fate of her friends, she believes that they, too, got their wish."

A clip played of the girl, now a vampire, speaking at a podium surrounded by reporters. "We told our parents we were coming to demonstrate, but this was the plan all along," she stated.

A tall, blonde woman who I recognized as AVL spokeswoman Nan Flanagan stepped up to the podium. She introduced herself and said, "We at the AVL take incidents like this very seriously. We are conscious of the fact that although in the past, humans of all ages were turned freely, we now live in a society that recognizes the mental and physical limitations of the young. These girls should not have been permitted to undergo this transformation and we at the AVL are putting our full support behind the passing of Proposition 832, which will officially establish the legal age of consent on the federal level."

Cameras flashed and the crowd of eager reporters erupted with questions. "Ms. Flanagan, do you know for a fact that all three of the girls are now vampires and if so, why haven't the other two come forward?" one called out.

"All three were indeed turned, to the best of my knowledge," Ms. Flanagan replied. "I'm sure the other girls have their reasons for remaining private. The transition is a difficult one and Miss Foster was gracious in stepping forward to ease the fears of the families and the community. I hope everyone will respect her privacy at this time."

Back at Fangtasia, Maureen McCalls said, "Police say their investigation into the whereabouts of Marie Campbell and Amy Twining is still open. As of now, there are no charges pending in the Diana Foster case and we're told that the minor has filed for emancipation from her parents. This incident has aggravated the already high tensions between the local vampire and human communities. We're seeing an increasing number of protests and incidents of vandalism and violence. We'll bring you more as the story unfolds. For New Orleans News, this is Maureen McCalls."

Josh let out a low whistle. "That's some place you're working for."

I didn't have a reply, but gave him a dark look. I finished my wine in a hurry and put a bill down on the bar as usual, which he politely refused, as usual. In a daze, I walked back to the hotel, torn between anger, worry, and confusion. I was inclined to agree with the humans on this issue, something was seriously fishy about the situation. But could I bring myself to ask Eric point blank what had happened? Did I even really want to know?

I didn't have too much time to think it over though. When I opened the door to my hotel room, Eric was there, lounging languidly in the armchair, flipping through the club paperwork. I almost screamed when I saw him, but caught myself and only let out a strangled gasp.

"Jesus, Eric. Your phone broken?"

He only smiled and motioned to the stack of papers in his lap. "You fared well, all things considered. You've made more progress than I'd expected. How's construction going?"

"It's coming along," I said as I tiredly dropped my things onto the bed. "Maybe another week or so to go."

"Good." He nodded and studied me. "What's wrong?" he asked, laying the papers back on the desk and crossing the room to where I stood. I tensed involuntarily and he froze just before reaching me. I could feel his anger at my reaction. "This isn't quite the welcome I'd expected."

I glared at him. "I saw an interesting story on the news tonight."

Eric's icy eyes narrowed. "And you think me responsible?"

"I don't know what to think," I spat, shoving past him to put some space between us. "All I know is that apparently there's been a pretty big controversy brewing around Fangtasia and I haven't heard shit from you for two weeks." I wouldn't look at him as I explained myself, but my eyes snapped to his face when I felt his amusement. "What could possibly be funny?"

"What were you more upset by- that you didn't hear about Fangtasia or that you didn't hear from me?"

I gave him the coldest glare I could muster. "You also still owe me an explanation as to why the hell I can feel you inside my head." I tapped my temple for emphasis.

Moving too fast for my eyes to track, he appeared in front of me, so close my breasts brushed his chest. "You took my blood," he said simply. "We are connected now, stronger than before."

"Don't you think that's something you probably should have told me upfront?"

"Do you regret it?" he asked.

"I don't know yet," I replied honestly. "Is it permanent?" He nodded and nuzzled my neck, a deep sound, like a purr, rumbling in his chest. He was utterly content.

"Why?" I asked softly.

Eric's eyes met mine and his large hand brushed my cheek. "Because you're mine."

I didn't know what to make of that, but I knew whatever it meant, it made Eric immensely happy. I enjoyed the warm feeling for a moment, but there were pressing issues at hand. I shook my head clear and stepped away from him. "I need some answers, Eric. What's going on?"

He motioned for me to sit and I obeyed, perching on the edge of the bed. He remained standing though, and paced as he explained, in more detail than I'd expected, what had happened over the last two weeks and why. Eric, as I'd suspected, did hold a position of authority in the vampire community- a sheriff, to be specific, of a territory consisting of Northern Louisiana. In a play to bring down and displace Eric from this role, a vampire- a young and foolish one- had lured the three teenagers to Fangtasia with the intent to kill them all and leave Eric holding the bag. Representatives from the AVL caught wind of the plan and arrived in time to force the vampire to turn the last of the girls to be used as damage control. The young vampire met the true death, but the damage had been done.

"And that's why I need you to leave," Eric concluded.

I gaped at him. "Leave?"

"A lot of people are out for blood right now, Abby. Fangtasia's been attacked three times already. There've been incidents with the staff, too. The public doesn't know about Fangtasia, New Orleans yet, but once they do it will also be a target. It will all die down with enough time, but for now, I have to focus on getting the club up and running and I can't do that worrying about you."

I was mildly offended. He made me sound like a burden. "If you're so worried, why not just postpone the opening? Why take the risk?"

Eric frowned. "I won't allow them to hold my business hostage. Everything will go forward as planned. The only risk I'm not willing to take is you."

I sat in stunned silence. The foreign emotions coursing through my body came as a complete shock. Eric was invested in this, in us, when I'd thought we'd only just gotten started. I knew with certainty now that I was not a passing interest. I was his and I'd had no idea. The game was already in play and I was only just now taking the field.

"I don't understand any of this," I muttered.

Eric sat next to me, curling his long arms around me and pulling me to his chest. He traced the line of my shoulders and down my arms, taking my hands in his, and feeling the fine bones. "So fragile," he whispered with a tinge of regret in his voice. "But only on the outside."

"They're only human," I said, "I can take care of myself."

"I'm not risking it." The tone of his voice left no room for argument. He planted a kiss on my shoulder. "You don't have to go far. In fact," he kissed my neck, "I'd prefer you didn't." His lips brought shivers up my spine.

"I guess I could stay with my parents."

"They don't associate with anyone in the Fellowship?"

I shook my head. "No way."

Eric nodded thoughtfully. "It will be difficult to ravish you at your parents' house."

I laughed. "It will be impossible." I turned in his arms and crawled onto his lap, my skirt riding up my legs until the lacy tops of my thigh-highs showed. I could feel his hardness straining against his jeans. Instantly my body recalled all those nights, the tortuous dreams, waking up moaning and sweating. It ached for release. I wiggled anxiously on Eric's lap.

Sensing my arousal, and feeling it first hand, Eric snarled and flipped me onto my back. His fangs snapped into place as he positioned himself over me. I arched against him, tugging at the hem of his shirt, a pleading whine the only sound I could make. He growled and I was assaulted by his own lust, and profound regret.

He kissed me, hard, almost painfully. "I would like nothing more than to fuck you senseless right now," he growled, "but there isn't enough time to properly enjoy it. I have a meeting in half an hour."

"Plenty of time," I breathed and captured his lips, my hands running over the hard lines of muscle beneath his shirt.

"Minx." Eric nipped playfully at my lips. "No, I will not be rushed the first time I take you. I've waited this long; I can wait a bit longer."

I frowned, growing increasingly frustrated. "You may be able to," I hissed, digging my nails into his back, "but I can't." I took his hand, guiding it forcefully under my skirt, past my panties, to feel the hot wetness between my thighs. "Please," I whimpered. I didn't, couldn't, care how desperate I sounded. I'd endured weeks of unfulfilled arousal, dreams so vivid I questioned reality when I woke from them. It was too much to be this close, only to have him pull away.

Eric was torn. I could feel the battle waging beneath the surface of his pale skin. He looked at the clock on the bedside table and shook his head.

"Just be late," I urged, squirming against the hand that hadn't moved from between my legs.

"That's not an option tonight." He muttered a string of curses and shook his head. "But what sort of man could leave you like this?" With one quick motion, he tore my skirt from my body, taking my panties with it.

I grinned, triumphant, and he gave me his own devious smile as he drove one long finger inside me. I cried out, almost coming off the bed, and he laughed. Gently, he pushed me further back on the bed and settled between my legs. I moaned as his finger worked, stroking expertly, joined by another a moment later. My hips rocked with his steady rhythm and I felt myself getting even wetter.

Eric watched me writhe under him and his lust magnified my own. How he maintained his self control was beyond me. I was fargone, panting and moaning, and he was patient and focused. I gasped when he suddenly took away his wonderful fingers, but nearly screamed when he replaced them with his tongue. He lapped at my wetness and teased my clit and then the fingers were back. He licked me and stroked me, building a beautiful pressure.

My back arched and my hands tangled themselves in the blankets as I drew closer to release. The edges of my vision darkened, my pulse pounded in my ears, and I screamed his name as I came harder than I ever had before. Eric sucked my clit until the last wave of orgasm washed through me and I collapsed, breathless, on the bed.

"Better, lover?" he asked, hovering over me. I nodded and he kissed me. I tasted myself on his lips and moaned, grinding my hips against his. He growled and backed off the bed quickly. "I've got to go." It was a struggle for him to grind out the words.

I smiled to myself, giddy and enjoying having a bit of power over him for once. I rose to my feet and shed my blouse and bra. "I guess I'll just hop in the shower then. All alone..." I laughed as I looked back at him over my shoulder. His self control was wavering. In a breath he had me pinned against the wall, my legs hooked around his waist.

"You'll be my ruin," he snarled and kissed me ferociously, pressing his rigid cock against me.

There was a loud knock at the door and Eric groaned, resting his head in the crook of my neck. "That's Pam."

I placed a small, chaste kiss on his shoulder. "Go," I urged.

He gently set me on my feet and took my face in his hands. "Soon, lover," he said with a soft kiss. He pulled away reluctantly and I slipped on my robe as he shrugged into his leather coat, buttoning it over his obvious erection.

Eric shook his head as he reached the door and looked back at me a final time. "My ruin," he said with a laugh as he left.

* * *

Thanks for reading! Don't forget to review!


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

It wasn't soon. I didn't see Eric again for weeks. He called nightly, but he was paranoid about meeting in public and neither of us were eager for him to stop by my parents' house. I'd made no mention to them that my relationship with my boss had gone well beyond the professional. In all honesty, I was more than a little ashamed about it. Not of Eric, exactly, but of the situation itself. My family was the wholesome, all-American type and while they had been forgiving of my teenage antics, I didn't expect them to accept their only daughter, the baby of family, engaging in a romance with a vampire who also happened to be her boss.

They had already grown apprehensive about my job after hearing about the Shreveport teenagers. It was my life, my choice, and they respected that, but my mother never missed an opportunity to drop a not-so-subtle hint that I should find employment with a human company. I tried to ignore her, but her constant comments started to take their toll and I began to question the sanity of my actions.

Whenever that happened though, I went out, met with friends, had a drink, whatever I needed to do to avoid those thoughts. My friends provided a welcome relief from the stifling atmosphere of my parents' house. They also distracted me from the lack of Eric, which bothered me more than I cared to admit.

It was especially hard feeling him every night without being able to actually lay eyes on him. He'd explained to me that with the distance between Shreveport and New Orleans, I hadn't been able to sense him as keenly before but now, being in the same city, I felt everything. It was maddening. Eric, on the other hand, made no secret of the fact that he enjoyed it immensely. Late at night when I'd wake from one of my dreams, wet and aching, my phone would ring and he would be on the other end just as frustrated and eager as I was. He'd ask me to describe my dream to him and I would whisper every detail. He'd tell me to touch myself and how, and I knew he was doing the same.

I knew from our conversations that the Fellowship had caught wind of the New Orleans Fangtasia. Eric had started advertising the Grand Opening and since then the club had been vandalized twice. He was beefing up security but was not happy about the added expense. I wished I could be there to help him. He was utterly swamped and Pam had returned to her duties in Baton Rouge. Several times I tried to convince him to let me come back to work but he wouldn't hear of it. One of the new waitresses had been accosted one night after training. The incident made Eric even more stubborn in his decision to keep me away. And so I spent my nights out with friends, trying to enjoy my forced vacation and ignore the hole Eric's absence left in my chest.

Halloween night finally came and with it the Grand Opening of Fangtasia, New Orleans. I, however, was set to attend a venetian masquerade ball at Josh's club. As disappointed as I was to be missing the opening of Fangtasia, I was excited about my evening. I'd put a lot of preparation into my costume and I spent the better part of the afternoon doing my hair and makeup. I hadn't had the opportunity to really enjoy a Halloween in years and the prospect of a Halloween masquerade at a gay bar was thrilling.

I was putting a few extra pins in my chignon and freshening a couple curls when Eric's presence became an anxious charge in my mind. I focused on my excitement for the night and the feeling slowly waned. My cell rang.

"What has you so happy tonight, lover?" his smooth voice purred over the line.

"I'm actually going out on Halloween night for once. I have a costume and everything." I balanced the phone between my ear and my shoulder as I slipped into said costume, a lovely blue velvet gown I'd found at a thrift store. I'd bought elbow-length ivory gloves and a blue and gold filigree mask to match.

"And what are you going as?"

I smiled mischievously to myself. "Buffy."

"Liar." He chuckled.

"So are you ready for the big night?" I put the phone on speaker so I could apply my lipstick.

"I suppose." He was on edge, though he'd never let it show, even in his voice.

"You know everything will go fine. Did you hire that DJ I recommended?"

"Yes. He gave me a discount when I mentioned your name." He was more suspicious than grateful. "How do you know this person again?"

"Oh, he's my other lover. My daytime lover," I answered matter-of-factly, pressing my lips and capping my lipstick. Eric knew I was joking, but I felt the flare of jealousy nonetheless. I laughed. "A girl has needs, you know."

"You take far too much pleasure in teasing me," he growled.

"Don't make it so easy then." I fastened my mask around my eyes, careful not to disturb my hair. My mother's voice floated up from downstairs telling me my ride had arrived. I snatched up my phone, quickly taking it off speaker.

"I've got to go, Eric. Good luck tonight."

"Try to stay out of trouble," he warned playfully.

Josh and his partner, Matthew, had gone above and beyond for this event. The club looked gorgeous, elaborately decorated with elegant draperies cascading from the ceiling and glowing candelabras everywhere. The space was just starting to fill when I arrived. Josh and Matthew were decked out in traditional masquerade splendor and greeted me boisterously when I approached the bar. Matthew shoved an orange colored drink in a martini glass into my hand and I sipped it without question.

"I think we'll get a good turnout tonight," Josh said, surveying the guests filtering in, "despite that hot new club opening down the street." He poked me playfully in the ribs.

"I think you're serving a different clientele," I said gently.

Josh shook his head. "You'd be surprised, lady."

They had more than "a good turnout". Within a few hours the club was packed. I was well into my third drink by then though, and too tipsy to care about the crush of bodies around me on the dancefloor. There was no party quite like a gay Halloween party. My cheerful mood was complemented by Eric's contentment, which could only mean the opening was going well. I felt licensed to thoroughly enjoy myself, guilt free.

I stayed until closing, dancing, drinking, laughing, being mindless for a change. I insisted on paying my tab before I left and turned down Josh's offers to call me a cab. I needed some air after the long night in the hot bar. Outside, the night breeze was cool on my flushed skin. The streets were busy with people filing out of the bars and late night parties spilling out onto the sidewalks.

I was still buzzing, although I'd had my last drink more than an hour ago. I was in no mood to go back to my parents' house. My nerves were too alive; the adrenaline flowed too freely in my veins still. I pondered on what to do with the last hours of my evening and only one thing came to mind. I debated for only a minute and headed off in the direction of Fangtasia.

There were still a few customers hanging around the bar when the bouncers, guards really, let me in. They were in a sorry state, drunk off their asses and looking dejected liked no one had asked them to the prom. The staff was starting to clean up around them.

I knew Eric would be in his office and feeling suddenly wicked, I made a quick stop at the bathroom before heading upstairs. He was at his desk, scanning over what I knew would be a summary of the night's earnings. He looked up when I entered, his expression a mixture of reproach and pleasure.

"You are certainly not Buffy," he said. I leaned against the doorframe and let him examine me.

"Disappointed?"

"Not at all."

"Good." I shoved off the frame and closed the door behind me. Eric leaned back in his chair and watched me cross the room until I stood directly in front of him. I removed each of my gloves, holding his gaze deliberately. My intent was clear.

"I was coming to see you tonight, you know," he said with a smile. He rose to his feet, dwarfing me with his remarkable height, and took my head in his hands. His fingers traced the line of my mask.

"Beat you to it." I smirked and sat down on his desk, opening my legs so he stood between them.

He leaned down and took my lips, gently, slowly. I ran my hands under his black t-shirt, but he grasped me by the wrists and stilled them. "This isn't what I'd had in mind."

"Really?" I breathed, sliding my gown up my legs, showing him I wore nothing underneath. My panties were in a trash bin downstairs. "Because I must have imagined this hundreds of times."

Eric growled and the next moment I was flat on my back across his desk. He ripped my gown down the middle and gave the bustier beneath the same treatment, all before I could exhale. I slipped out of the tattered remains as he shed his shirt. A soft moan escaped me as I drank in the sight of him, all smooth skin and defined muscle. Powerful and dangerous. I only had an instant to appreciate it though, because he kissed me again, harder this time, his tongue forcing its way past my lips. Goosebumps rose across my flesh as he devoured me, one hand skillfully controlling my neck.

My nipples hardened into painfully stiff peaks and Eric bent to them, tweaking and sucking the sensitive buds. I cried out desperately at the attention. It was too much. Through our bond, I was assaulted by each wave of need, his, mine, his, until I couldn't tell whose feelings were whose anymore. I was dizzy and ravenous.

"Now, please, now," I begged, opening my legs wider, shameless.

I heard a zipper and his pants as they fell to the floor. With one long thrust Eric was inside me. I gasped, gripping the edge of the desk with one hand and his shoulder with the other. I'd never been so completely filled.

"Fuck, Abby," he hissed.

He paused a moment until I urged him on with a rock of my hips and he pulled out almost completely before slamming into me again. I met him thrust for thrust, moaning and whimpering his name. We were both out of our minds. Eric licked his thumb and placed it over my throbbing clit, teasing it with preternatural speed, faster than a vibrator. I exploded, screaming, stars dancing across my vision. He groaned as my muscles pulsed around him, adopting a quicker pace, and I heard the snap of his fangs. He didn't ask, but I nodded vigorously and bared my neck to him, clutching his shoulders for support as he pounded into me. I came again as his fangs sliced through the skin of my neck. Eric was only a moment behind me.

"Holy crap," I breathed when the lusty fog over my mind began to dissipate and my frantic heartbeat evened out. I glanced at the carnage around us and laughed. Along with the remains of my clothes, absolutely everything from Eric's desk was now on the floor. Papers, folders, pens, and other random office supplies were scattered everywhere. His chair was on its side a few feet away. I knew for a certainty that everyone in the club, maybe on the whole block, had heard us. I couldn't manage to care at the moment though. Eric looked up from cleaning the blood from my neck and chuckled at the mess.

I looked up at him and smiled shyly, some of my modesty returning. "Was this as good as what you had in mind?"

"Better," he said as he removed the mask I'd completely forgotten I was wearing. He kissed my eyelids, the tip of my nose, and down the column of my throat. "Mine," he whispered.

The word didn't frighten me as it might have. It didn't offend my feminism or make me feel like an object. It wrapped around me like a soft blanket. I felt warm, treasured, safe. I wanted to be his. That realization, and all its implications, did frighten me. Eric studied my face, no doubt pondering the progression of my emotions. He didn't question me though, but instead gently helped me to feet.

"I'll get you something to wear," he said softly, disappearing down the hall to the supply closet. He returned with a Fangtasia t-shirt and shorts. "I hope you weren't very attached to that dress." There wasn't a hint of apology in his voice.

"It doesn't really matter now, does it?" I replied as I pulled on the clothes.

"I'll buy you another one." He extended his hand to me and I looked at it questioningly. "If you think you're sleeping anywhere but in my bed tonight, you are sorely mistaken."

Laying in his arms as the sun came up, Eric warned me what would happen to him when he went under for the day. But words couldn't prepare me for the sight or the feel of him, all but a corpse next to me. It was unnerving. When he faded, I studied his face for a long time in the dim light of the bedside lamp, acclimating myself to his stillness. I realized I could touch him and he wouldn't feel it or wake up. I explored his features with my fingers, the strong line of his jaw, the curve of his nose. I traced the muscles in his chest, followed the straight angle of his hip and thigh. I fell asleep curled against him, my hand resting on his silent heart and woke to his lips on mine.

* * *

Look at me, two updates in two days! Thanks to everyone who's reading and who has reviewed so far. I would LOVE to hear from the rest of you!


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve**

When we returned to Shreveport a week later, Eric insisted I stay at his house. His excuse was that Shreveport still wasn't safe, but I suspected that he would have found a reason no matter what. I couldn't really complain about getting to stay in the splendor that was the Northman house. I'd been there before, of course, but only in the living room and Eric's office. Now I had free reign and got to take full advantage of the hot tub, pool, the library, and home theater. It was fun to play at living a life of luxury but after a week or so, I started to feel like a kept woman and it chafed. I needed to go home, to get back to my routine and regain some sense of normalcy after the whirlwind of the past few weeks.

I knew Eric wouldn't understand my feelings. I didn't expect him to. But I owed it to him to at least discuss it. So when he woke on Sunday night, his night off from Fangtasia, I carefully broached the topic with him. We were standing in the kitchen, and as I warmed a bottle of True Blood for him, I casually mentioned that I was thinking of spending the night at my apartment.

"Absolutely not," he said. His words didn't infuriate me as much as his attitude when he said them. He was dismissive, swatting away the idea like he would the nonsense of a child.

I bristled. "I wasn't asking."

"I don't care. You're not going."

I crossed my arms over my chest. "Am I a captive here or a guest?"

Eric's eyes narrowed. "A guest. For now."

My knee-jerk reaction was absolute fury but I took a deep breath and tried a different approach. "Can we please discuss this like civilized people?"

He looked at me and slowly, deliberately said, "It would make me very happy, Abigail, if you stayed in my home where I know you are safe and not being beaten or raped by members of a fanatical religious organization."

"Don't patronize me." The microwave beeped. I sat the warm bottle down on the counter in front of him and circled behind him to slip my arms around his waist. His mood softened. "You can't keep me hidden away here forever," I said quietly.

"I could turn you."

"I could leave during the day."

We were both angry again. Eric took a sip of his True Blood and sat it back down loudly. "You wouldn't dare."

I laughed. "Wouldn't I?"

"I'm serious, Abby."

"So am I."

He grasped me by the arm and slowly pulled me around to face him. "Abby," he said, his voice deep and unnatural. He met my eyes purposefully. "You will not leave this house without me. You're going to stay here."

My jaw dropped and I jerked out of his grasp. "Tell me you're not trying to do that thing to me!" He stared at me, dumbfounded. "You are! Oh my God!" I stormed out of the kitchen, fuming. I got to the door leading to Eric's basement level bedroom suite before he appeared beside me.

"How dare you," I shot over my shoulder as I flew down the stairs.

He caught up to me at the bottom and held me by the shoulders, a wild look in his eyes. "How did you do that?" he demanded.

"Do what?" I tried futilely to wriggle free.

He studied me, scrutinized my face. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. "Are you human?" he breathed.

"Of course I am! What else would I be?" I twisted furiously in his grip and he let me go. "Aw, what's wrong? Did I bruise your precious ego? Can't believe I didn't fall for your stupid little magic trick?"

Eric shook his head. "You don't understand. No one is immune to it, Abby. No human, at least."

"Well I don't know what to tell you. All I know is that for somebody who worked awfully hard to gain my trust, you sure did betray it quick enough." I marched around the room, collecting the few personal items I'd left about and shoving them into my purse.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going home."

He was struggling to control his temper, but I had my own to worry about. "Abigail-"

"No. I'm going home."

Eric moved so he stood between me and the stairs. "I was only trying to protect you," he said, surprisingly calm, though I could feel the tempest of emotions swirling below the surface.

"Then come up with a better way to do it, because fucking with my mind is unacceptable."

He didn't speak for a long moment, but I knew he was working something out in his head. "I'm sorry," he said finally. "I don't like the idea that something could happen to you, and I might not be able to reach you."

It pained him to say it, so I appreciated it all the more. I set my bag on the floor, went to him and hugged his waist. "There hasn't been a single incident with the Fellowship since we got back. I'll be fine. I just need to get back to my life."

Eric looked away, refusing to meet my eyes. "I know."

"Thank you." I hugged him tighter and he kissed the top of my head.

I stayed in my apartment that night and went back to work that week. It was nice to return to something like my old routine. I still slept at Eric's house a few nights a week, and on rare occasions he stayed at mine. The Fellowship wasn't an issue, other than a few protests here and there, which was normal. It helped that the Twining and Campbell families claimed to have received visits from their daughters. I didn't ask Eric how they'd managed to pull that off; I already had a pretty good idea.

It was a little strange working for the same man who did such shameful and wonderful things to me in bed at night. Maintaining my professionalism during work hours was a struggle, which Eric didn't make any easier. Thankfully he understood the importance of discretion around the other employees. He actually enjoyed playing the farce of our professional relationship. He loved to tease me and threaten me with "disciplinary action", which he would carry out after everyone else had left.

I learned to enjoy getting in "trouble" with my boss, but the first time he'd done it, it was a bit intimidating. He'd called me into the bar where he was waiting in his chair on the stage. Calmly, he told me to strip, making it clear with his eyes there was no room to do anything but obey. When I stood before him, completely naked, he ordered me to touch myself and not stop until he gave the word. He waited until I was near release, my fingers dripping, before he told me to stop and lick my fingers clean. Then he bent me over his throne and fucked me until I could barely stand.

After a few weeks, there was a hardly a surface in Fangtasia he hadn't taken me on. No one had ever pushed my limits so far, or satisfied me more completely. I felt like I was living in a fantasy world. My everyday life had morphed into something I'd never imagined, something foreign and erotic.

But as we ladies are bound to do, I began to grow restless and question my situation. Companionship and mind blowing sex was all well and good, but when I looked to the future everything was a big question mark. I knew Eric cared for me deeply, I didn't know if I could call that feeling "love" or not, but either way where would that lead? He'd mentioned turning me many times, but I'd never given the idea serious thought. And though I hadn't discussed it with him, my future with him as a human was sure to be short lived. I hated the idea of being old and sickly when he would be as he was now, beautiful and strong.

This track of thinking inevitably led to a question I'd battled long before I ever met Eric. What exactly did I want from my life? Should go back to school and pursue a real career? Did I want marriage and a family? Only one of those paths was even a possibility with Eric. Vampire-human marriages were still illegal in Louisiana and a family was impossible.

I rationalized that I could enjoy whatever it was I had with Eric for a while longer before I needed to make any decisions and I didn't speak to him of my dilemma. I pushed the matter to the back of my mind and avoiding dredging it up again. But when I went home to New Orleans for Christmas, my attitude changed. Being surrounded by family at the holidays always illuminates the important things in life.

My parents had brought my Mema home for the holiday from the assisted care facility she'd moved into a few months earlier. My uncle and I traveled down from Shreveport. My three eldest brothers were there with their wives and daughters. My youngest brother arrived with a pretty stranger he introduced as his fiance. Before the family could even process that news, my third eldest brother and his wife announced they were expecting. The house overflowed with joy and excitement. I was happy for my brothers and I loved my nieces and sisters-in-law dearly. But sitting in the cheery warmth of my parents' living room with them all, I couldn't help but feel incredibly alone. I couldn't imagine Eric ever sitting by my side, enjoying a Christmas with my family. I tried to picture it, but my mind just couldn't conjure the image.

I wondered what my family's Christmas would look like if I was a vampire. Would they even want me there? Would they trust me, be frightened of me? Would they still love me? I thought of everything I could do with an unending lifespan, a forever youth, the knowledge and perspective I could gain, the history I would see. I thought about Eric, about his beauty, his power, his biting sense of humor, his smile. I thought of how happy I was with him and how surprisingly wonderful it was to be so connected to another being.

Then I thought about the sun, the way the late afternoon rays fell on the clouds, the sunrise, the seasons. I looked at my nieces, so perfect and innocent, still full of wonder. I looked at my brothers and their wives. I remembered their weddings, the looks on their faces as they stood at the altar. I held my youngest niece, no more than six months old, and marveled at her tiny hands, her beautiful smile, her precious laughter.

I returned to Shreveport with a heavy heart. When I got into town, I drove directly to Eric's house. He greeted me at the door with an expression of apprehension. I tried to smile my sweetest, but he knew my mood was dark. He took me in his arms and I sank into him.

"Was your trip not a pleasant one?" he asked softly.

I shook my head. "No, it was great. Really great."

He studied my face, clearly aware I was putting up a front. "I have something for you." He took my hand and guided me into the living room.

Eric didn't decorate for the holidays and he had looked at me like I'd lost my mind when I'd asked if he did. But tonight the flickering flames of a dozen scattered candles lit the living room and on the coffee table sat a tiny Christmas tree, strung with colored lights and ornaments with one small, perfectly wrapped package underneath.

I stared at the scene, overwhelmed with a barrage of emotions that brought tears to my eyes. "Did you do this for me?" Eric nodded once, his eyes wide and uncertain. "It's beautiful," I breathed and flung my arms around his neck.

"You like it." He was relieved.

"Of course! It's wonderful." I kissed him hungrily, so pleasantly amazed by my vampire I forgot my gloominess.

I forgot everything else, too, as he lifted me from the floor, returning my kiss with his own quiet passion. We made love on the couch in the warm glow of the candlelight. It was patient and gentle, not desperate or crazed like it often was and Eric didn't bite me as he neared his climax. Instead, as he moved inside me, steady and smooth, he buried his face in the crook of my neck and inhaled my scent. The warmth of his adoration flooded my mind and I gasped as he fell over the edge whispering, "I love you."

I pressed my lips to his, feeding him my emotions through our connection as I came. When I floated back to earth, I took his face in my hands. "I love you." I knew without a doubt that I meant it, but that complicated everything all the more. We laid together, enjoying the peace that came with our admissions.

After a while, Eric got up and returned with the small package from under the tree. He placed it on my chest with a smile. I sat up and fingered the tiny box hesitantly. "Open it," he urged.

I tore through the pretty paper and lifted the lid of the box. A brilliant teardrop diamond on a white gold chain shone up at me from the velvety pillow. "Oh my," I whispered as the breath went out of me. I'd never owned anything as beautiful before in my life. I was almost scared to touch it.

Eric gently took the box from me and extracted the necklace. The stone shimmered in the soft light. I held my hair up as he fastened the chain around my neck. "It's perfect on you," he said, "just as I knew it would be."

"I don't even know how to thank you," I said quietly. "No one's ever given me anything like this."

He waved the thought away and toyed with a lock of my hair. "Don't thank me. It was a selfish gesture. I take great pleasure in spoiling what's mine."

I laughed. "Thank you." I kissed his lips quickly. "I have something for you, too," I admitted, growing anxious.

I had put a lot of thought into what to get Eric for Christmas. He was, without a doubt, the hardest person I'd ever had to shop for. What do you get someone who has already seen everything there is to see and done everything there is to do? Someone who can buy whatever they want, whenever they want it? I'd drawn a big blank and ended up calling Pam for help. She said she always bought him cars, which wasn't very helpful. But then she'd said, "Eric's favorite things are money, blood, sex, me, and you. Not in that particular order."

It gave me an idea. I didn't know how it would go over, but it was the only idea I had so I took a gamble and went with it. Now, at the moment of truth, I was seriously doubting my choice. I swallowed my anxiety and dashed into the hall to retrieve the package from my bag. Eric watched me inquisitively as I ran back into the room and presented it to him. He carefully ripped through the wrapping and stared curiously at the leather album in his hands. His eyebrows shot up as he lifted the cover.

The album was full of the prints from a ridiculously expensive boudoir photo shoot I'd done a month ago. I'd had a shamefully good time devising the concepts and outfits for the scenes, playing on Eric's wide range of erotic tastes. I'd made sure he'd bitten me the night before the shoot and hadn't healed the bite, so each picture featured the twin puncture marks from his fangs. The first set was some tongue-in-cheek "naughty secretary" shots on a desk. There were some classic pin-up girl poses, some shots in traditional lingerie, and even a few mild bondage pictures.

Eric silently flipped through the pages. Occasionally he'd pause on a particular picture, but he didn't say a word. He closed the album carefully when he reached the last page. I held my breath, unable to make out his reaction.

"I enjoyed that very much, lover," he said with a grin and practically pounced on me. I laughed , giddy with relief that my gift was a hit. "You kept the clothing?" I nodded. "Excellent," he purred.

Much later, when we lay tangled together in Eric's bed, awaiting the sunrise, he asked me why my mood had been so dark when I arrived tonight. I tried to divert the conversation but Eric persisted.

"I've had a lot on my mind lately," I said simply, hoping he would let it go at that.

"Like what?" He propped himself up on an elbow and looked down at me.

"Things I'd rather not get into right now."

"Things about me?" he asked.

I sighed. "Things about us."

Eric was quiet for a long moment. "You're not unhappy with me." It was a fact we both knew.

I shook my head. "No. That's definitely not the problem."

"Then what is?"

I rose up on my elbows to his level. "I know it's such a girl thing to ask. And I hate myself for saying it, but where does this lead? What happens to us?"

He smiled and said, like the answer was obvious, "When you're ready, I will turn you."

I sighed and flopped back on my pillow. "Eric, we've never even discussed that. I don't know that I want to be a vampire."

He looked offended. "Why wouldn't you?"

"Because maybe I want other things out of life. When I went home, everyone was so happy with careers and families, normal lives. I don't want to lose them. And maybe I don't want to lose the opportunity to have what they have; I don't know. I do know I hate the idea of losing you."

I could feel Eric's growing sadness as he listened and it pained me. I wished I'd kept my mouth shut, tried harder to dodge his questions. He looked down at me and brushed the hair away from my face.

"I wish I could give you everything you ever wanted," he said softly.

I felt the words like a knife in my heart. I rolled over and snuggled close to his chest. He wrapped his arms around me. "I don't know what I want," I said.

In just a few weeks, though, it wouldn't matter. Our conversation might as well have never happened, for all it was worth, because our fates took a direction neither of us could have foreseen.

* * *

Thanks for reading and reviewing, everyone!


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

After the holidays, Eric and I went on about life as usual but the cloud of our conversation that night and all its implications hung over our heads. I battled with my thoughts constantly. I desperately wanted to enjoy being in love, truly in love, for the first time in my life, without the complexities of the situation looming in the back of my mind. For Eric's part, he slipped more and more talk of my turning and the joys of vampirism into our conversations. He knew it complicated things for me, but he was nothing if not persistent.

His persistence tripled when I suddenly fell ill. Out of nowhere, really, I was all but bedridden. My body was weak and wracked with chills, my skin was pale and clammy, and I could barely keep any food down. At first, I chalked it up to a stomach virus and a bit of Eric's blood had me feeling good as new. But within a week the symptoms were back. This confounded Eric, who insisted that his blood should have completely cured whatever sickness I had. He gave me his blood again, more this time, and for about a week I was healthy.

When my symptoms returned again, Eric got scared. It was a strange thing to experience. I'd never felt real fear from him before. Part of me had wondered if he was even capable of it. He began pushing even harder for me to agree to let him turn me. I staunchly refused. I didn't know what was wrong with me and I wasn't about to go killing a fly with a shotgun. I reasoned that it was some sort of virus I was somehow catching repeatedly. Eric ordered a cleaning crew to his house, my apartment, and the club. It seemed a little silly to me, but it eased his worries.

For my third round with the sickness, I wouldn't accept Eric's blood anymore. It infuriated him, but I reasoned that my body needed to build up its own immunity to whatever this was. Begrudgingly, Eric let me try my theory but only if I stayed with him for the duration. He had his maid prepare one of the upstairs bedrooms for me on my insistence that I had no desire to go through a stomach virus around his vampire senses.

I bore through it for a week but my symptoms remained the same. Finally I bit the bullet and made an appointment with my doctor. She agreed it was most likely a stomach flu, but I couldn't include that my vampire boyfriend had cured me of it twice already so the erratic nature and longevity of the sickness concerned her. She ordered several tests and I waited grumpily in the sterile exam room while they were processed.

When Dr. Bailey returned with the results, I was happy for about a second before she gave me the diagnosis. The word passed her lips and my world started to turn black. I gripped the edges of the examining table to keep from falling and she grabbed my shoulder to steady me. I shook my head vehemently.

"No," I insisted. It didn't make any sense. It was impossible. "There's been a mistake."

"No mistake."

"Are you sure? Can you just check again?" I leaned forward, trying to get a look at the chart in her hands.

She shook her head. "Abigail, I am completely confident our test was correct. We can run it again if it makes you feel better. But I am very sure you are pregnant, my dear."

I didn't go back to Eric's house. I went to the drug store and then drove straight to my apartment. In the safety and privacy of my own bathroom, I tore through the packages of the three different pregnancy tests I'd purchased and waited anxiously. They all showed positive. I threw them in the trash and sank to floor.

My mind raced. Had I been drunk recently? Blacked out? Was there a moment in the last few months I could have been taken advantage of? I couldn't think of a single one and the idea itself seemed wholly unlikely.

Dr. Bailey had estimated me at three months. I had only been with Eric in that time. I held my head in my hands. Was it possible? Was there something supernatural at work here? If so, what the hell was growing inside me? I looked down at my flat belly and felt more afraid than I ever had in my life. I was even more afraid than I had been tied to that chair in Eric's office, being tortured within an inch of my life by a sadistic vampire.

I had to get an abortion. That was the only real option here, wasn't it? I shook my head. Now was not the time for decisions. I couldn't be rational with this chaos raging in my mind. I curled myself into a ball on the floor and just sobbed, unable to do anything else. I didn't know how long I laid there, but by the slow drifting of the shadows across the floor, I knew nightfall was drawing nearer. I was happy at the thought. I needed Eric. I needed his calm and his strength. I needed him to make sense of this for me. Eric would make things better somehow. With that one comforting thought, I drifted off to sleep.

I awoke to two large, boot clad feet filling my field of vision. Eric. Relief washed over me for only moment, before I looked up into his face. His eyes were fixed fiercely on the pile of positive pregnancy tests in the wastebasket. A breath later, his anger struck me like a physical blow. I scrambled to my feet.

"Eric, no," I cried and reached out to him. He caught me around the wrists before I could touch him, and flung me away from him. I stumbled backward into the counter. I shook my head, huge, hot tears blurring my vision. "Please," I sobbed, my throat tightening as the desperation welled from my chest. Why hadn't I realized? How could I have been so stupid?

His eyes burned into me, pouring out all his hatred, anger, and jealousy. He didn't utter a sound. He didn't have to. I choked on the onslaught.

"It's not what you think."

Silently, he turned on his heel, turning his back to me with a finality that broke my heart. I leapt at him, frantically clawing at his chest like a mad woman.

"Eric, listen to me! Please!" He stared down at me coldly. "I swear to you! I don't know how it happened!"

Eric smirked, very much a vampire in that moment. "I have a pretty good idea." He extracted himself from my grasp and headed for the door.

"Eric, please! I love you!"

He stopped in the doorway and his shoulders tensed. Fresh hatred seethed from his body but this time I could feel an overwhelming sadness beneath it. It hurt me even more than his anger. An instant later, with no warning but the sound of a quick breeze, I was against the wall, Eric's strong hand around my neck, my feet dangling helplessly a foot off the floor.

He glared up at me and bared his fangs. "I would have given you anything. I would have given you immortality."

I wheezed, barely able to breathe and completely unable to talk. I wished desperately then that our bond was stronger, that I could send my thoughts to him. I would have said that I never wanted immortality, that I didn't care what he could give me, that all I wanted was him. I would have told him that I was his completely and no man could ever turn me away from him. But all I could do was gasp pathetically for air.

Eric's arm shook with barely restrained rage and I wondered for a moment if he would kill me. He seemed to debate it. "I want you out of this town," he growled, "Out of my area. You have shamed yourself and you have you shamed me. If I ever see your face again I will drain you dry."

He released me abruptly and I fell to the floor in an inelegant heap. I stayed there, curled in on myself, sobbing so hard I thought my lungs would burst. Vaguely I registered him leaving and in a dark, far corner of my mind, I could feel him breaking, in just as much, if not more, pain than I was in.

"Please," I whispered, wishing I had the power to reach him with my words. "Please come back to me. I love you. I love you. I love you." I chanted it. I sang it in my head. I pushed it across the bond, flooded the channel with it. I love you. I love you. Love. Love. Love.

The response was fury as cold and harsh as a slap and then there was nothing. The bond was cut and I was utterly alone.


End file.
